


Darsant Avat

by Yidenia



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Jedi, Sith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-20
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-02 05:57:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 104,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yidenia/pseuds/Yidenia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an alternate timeline where Qui-Gon Jinn never trained Xanatos, the Jedi Master finds a special little initiate and takes him as his padawan. Unfortunately, the Dark Side is rising even then, and a phenomenon known as Darsant Avat is especially prevalent to young Obi-Wan Kenobi. Between the laughter and joy of everyday life is the ominous threat that Obi-Wan's fate will not lead to a happy end. Qui-Gon, and later Anakin, must find out exactly what this Darsant Avat entails…and prevent it from claiming Obi-Wan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Eloquent Youngling

The hyperdrive beeped three times, signaling that the ship was about to drop out of hyperspace in five minutes. Qui-Gon scowled at his lightsaber, wondering if he should chance a few extra minutes to dig out the last of the fish guts still trapped inside the cracks in the handle. It figured that there would be at least one aquatic species with teeth strong enough to split through the metal of the hilt. He could already imagine Tahl's face once she hears the whole story.

Force take it, He hooked the saber to his belt and went to strap himself in the cockpit. Much of the goop had already been wiped away, but if he did not get the remaining stuff out of the cracks, it was going to smell very bad. It was also kind of disgusting to wield a weapon with bits of fish in it, which was what he would be doing if he replaced the hilt covering without getting everything out.

Coruscant zoomed into view on the screens, the planet brownish thanks to the multitude of buildings that covered its surface. Lines of traffic streamed across its atmosphere, and he dove in smoothly, the move practiced over countless times of piloting a space vessel. Almost as soon as he did, the ships in front of him slowed, crowding into a congestion that seemed to last for miles at least.

Oh great. He hated traffic. With one hand, Qui-Gon reached out and flicked on the intercom.

"Yes?"

Qui-Gon cocked an eyebrow at this. "Is this seriously how you greet Jedi who call this frequency?"

Tahl chuckled over the comm. "I knew it was you. Sensed you arrive."

"Why are you taking transmissions at the front desk? Shouldn't you be at the archives?"

"Maharel got sick, asked me to take over for the day while she went to the healers. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Just letting the Council know there is traffic congestion on West 131 skyway," Qui-Gon reported, "I would be lucky if I make it to the temple by nightfall, it looks pretty bad."

"I'll let them know."

He listened to her speak to a Council member before switching back to talk to him.

"How did the mission go?"

Qui-Gon glanced wryly at his lightsaber. The shuttles ahead of him were moving at an agonizingly slow pace. He settled for a long wait. "Well enough. I found the rogue, we fought," I had my lightsaber swallowed by a fish, "No collateral damage."

"You sound very sardonic."

"I don't like killing rogues," Qui-Gon shook his head, "I feel like the Order should send more Jedi out at once to dispatch them. I can't help but feel that some of them are just misguided, that they could be turned around. Having more of us could help intimidate them into not even trying."

"I'm not going to go over this again with you via an intercom, Qui. How far are you from the temple?"

Qui-Gon punched a few commands and looked at the data displayed on the screens. "As I thought. I'd be lucky if I make it by nightfall. I don't know what's causing this traffic." Most accidents, predictably, would not cause traffic on the skyways, since they usually result in ships plummeting down through the buildings or onto rooftops, conveniently out of the main traffic. There were, however, cases of ships breaking down, and then suspending in the air, unable to move. On occasion, ships could get snagged by power-lines and start swinging in and out of the lanes until something put a stop to them, but that did not seem to be the case here.

"Oh, have to go, answering new transmissions. We will talk later, Qui."

"Sure."

In the silence that fell, Qui-Gon found himself becoming very bored. Traffic was inconvenient in that there were long pauses, but not long enough for him to meditate. During this time, his former padawan would have moaned, and the whining would have helped ground Qui-Gon's own patience. It had been years since the child's knighting, however, and the Jedi Master was returning from a solo mission. The ship was empty save for him, and very quiet.

Traffic inched forward. He eased the ship along. Behind him stretched other vessels, some doing stationary flips and turns in order to ease the boredom. They must be young people, Qui-Gon mused, easily given to playfulness. Some of them were going so far as to fly upside down.

What a lot, Qui-Gon thought, moving his ship forward again.

* * *

Qui-Gon ended up arriving at the temple grounds far too late in the night than was healthy, but as was usually the case when a person arrived home to find many people waiting, he was not as sleepy as he should have been.

"You did a number on your lightsaber," Mace noted, rubbing his eyes. "What's that smell?"

"Do you want my report now?" He asked. The lights in the hanger actually made him more awake and alert.

"Write it up in the morning. Get some rest now." It sounded like Mace was more eager to go rest himself, rather than being considerate of Qui-Gon. There seemed to have been some incident at the temple while he was away; everyone was awake and tired. "Unless you have to go to the healers? Go to the healers."

"I'm uninjured."

Mace gave him a flat look, as if the statement did not compute in his brain.

"You're uninjured."

"Yes…" Qui-Gon said slowly, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Mace waved his hand, "By the Force," He smothered a yawn with both hands, "But are we glad you're back. Do you need to go to the healers?"

"I'm going to bed," Said Qui-Gon, concluding that he would not be having a coherent conversation with Mace, at least.

"You do that," Mace said, blinking groggily. Qui-Gon moved past him.

"What is wrong with Mace?" He asked Shaak Ti, who looked less tired than the dark-skinned Jedi, but still very subdued.

"There was a fire," She told him, "One of the younglings accidentally started one. It was rather…trying, to put it down. You are lucky to have flown in when you did; no one would have been able to meet you if you came here earlier."

"A fire?" Qui-Gon sniffed the air. "When did this happen?" Tahl never mentioned anything about a fire, so he assumed that this happened after he contacted her. "I don't smell smoke."

"You wouldn't smell it here. Wait until you go towards the residential quarters. The smell of it is everywhere. Thankfully, none of the younglings are badly hurt. Tomorrow, we may have to recruit your help in rebuilding, at any rate. Some of the younglings, though unharmed, are trapped. We're trying to get them out."

Qui-Gon was actually more and more alert. He had a feeling it was because he was having some kind of mental second wind, after nearly falling asleep in the horrendous traffic. "I can take a look now, if you want."

Shaak Ti gave him a flat look, and pointed imperiously at the door. "Tomorrow, Qui-Gon. The temple does have other Jedi around."

Force, younglings trapped under rubble? No wonder Mace and Shaak Ti looked so tired and everyone was awake. It was obvious that no one expected to free those poor children tonight.

"Qui-Gon!"

"Are you cert—"

"Get out of here, Qui," Mace shoved him toward the door, "Someone needs to be able to function in the morning."

He raised one of his hands in mock-surrender and headed out reluctantly. Sleep would be good, a shower beforehand as well, plus he needed to get the fish guts out of his lightsaber or else the weapon would not help him very much when they excavate the ruins.

Who am I kidding.

Tahl was on site, her eyes instantly drawn to his lightsaber.

"What did you do with it this time?" She asked.

"This time?" Qui-Gon exclaimed indignantly,"What do you mean 'this time'?"

She just raised an eyebrow. The skin around her eyes was swollen with sleepiness.

"Long story. What do we have?"

She gestured at the debris behind her. "The fire damaged the foundations and brought the whole thing down. Aren't you supposed to be in bed?"

"Who needs sleep?" Qui-Gon muttered as he scrutinized the wreckage. The smell of smoke lingered thickly in the air. "Sleep is for the weak. Why isn't anyone doing anything?"

"It's a delicate balance of physics," Tahl turned around to stare with him, "There is one very important wall over the younglings that is balanced precariously against the stuff above. We're too afraid to even yell at them now because the slightest vibration could bring everything down and crush all of them. It's too heavy for them to keep afloat with telekinesis, and we can't just levitate everything all at once because there are just too many heavy blocks."

The rubble was actually a floor below, having sunk through the levels.

"The children will suffocate in there," Qui-Gon said in concern. "Are there any droids excavating right now?"

"We pulled all the droids out," She replied. "They don't have the Force."

However awake he was, Qui-Gon was tired enough to find that statement funny.

"I'll go in," He offered.

"No you won't," Tahl said dryly, "You're too big."

Qui-Gon muttered an oath. Of all the times for his size to be an impediment…he stretched his senses out to locate the children and count how many there were.

It had gotten dark enough that some Jedi were lighting their way using lightsabers. One of the Jedi was holding up a hologram of the schematics scanned by the droids, highlighting various important parts of the rubble and the locations of the six children. One of the engineers was arguing about the proper way to remove the debris stacked on top.

"We can use the droids to support this section, come out, bring another support inside over here, then we can remove this patch."

"They can't navigate the pathways without bumping into the walls with the support."

"We can take autonomy from them, use remote control."

"That's not going to work. It will be even worse than if we turn the AI on…"

"Progress report," Mace's voice broke into the low din, and Qui-Gon wondered where Yoda was. Mace turned around and spotted him. He blinked, then scowled.

"You need to learn to follow orders," He hissed, but without much vehemence. "What are you doing here, Qui?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows.

"Let's go," Called one of the Jedi, "May the Force be with us, but we can't come up with anything better." Stone creaked as people started directing their energies to lift some of the blocks. The excavation droids whirred.

"There's our cue," Said Tahl, grabbing Qui-Gon's wrist, "Since you're here, might as well make yourself useful."

Using the Force to lift debris took a lot of brainpower, and after mind-numbing traffic following a rather grueling mission, Qui-Gon quickly developed a headache. The droids dove under the rubble to stick supports to the caverns, and they had a few close calls with some of the spaces sinking inwards. The Créche Master stood nearby, wringing her hands.

They retrieved the first one, a small Mon Calamari girl with large tearful eyes and a shy demeanor. The child was unharmed, and ran to the Créche Master instantly for comfort. The other Jedi took an almost synchronized breath of relief to recollect themselves. Mace looked like he was about to fall on his feet.

"One down," Tahl said solemnly, "Five to go."

Then, to everyone's horror and dismay, the debris slid right over one of the caverns. There was an intense flash of pain that resonated in the Force.

One of the Jedi swore.

"Initiate Kenobi?" Kit Fisto was swinging his head-tresses out of the way, "Kenobi, are you hurt?"

Qui-Gon quickly scanned the presence. The child's Force energy was absorbing into itself, common among those going into shock.

"Lift it!" Called another Jedi, "Slowly now!"

"He's too deep, and this board overlaps with the next cavern," Fisto reported.

Qui-Gon skimmed over the young one's Force presence in another attempt to determine the damage. All he could tell was that the child was in serious pain.

"We need to get those two out," Said a third Jedi, "Before we can get to Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"We are coming soon, child," Fisto called out, though not too loudly. Qui-Gon could not be sure if the initiate heard.

After that, excavation became more desperate, and almost more sloppy, though despite a few close calls, there were no more cave-ins. Dawn broke, before Qui-Gon managed to ply open the marble chunk that revealed the child within.

Face streaked with tears, the boy looked to be about eight or nine years old, with reddish brown hair and skin pale from pain. His legs were buried under the cave-in and his body was twisted uncomfortably against the wood and dirt. He looked up at Qui-Gon once the roof was opened…and smiled.

Qui-Gon's heart jumped to his throat. It was the sweetest, most beautiful smile he had ever seen, tinged with agony and wet with tears that still streamed from the boy's eyes, but born from courage and innocent optimism.

"There you are!" Tahl was talking in a high cooing voice. There was a reason she was not a Créche Master, and she sounded more like a malicious witch than a comforting mother-figure. "Hold on, we are going to get you out right away, alright?"

"I'll go down," Qui-Gon said as a tired Mace stuck his lightsaber into the cavern to illuminate the rubble.

"Don't step on him," Mace rubbed his face.

Qui-Gon glared. "Right. Because I wasn't knighted the same year you were."

"Don't step on him." Tahl tried to grin, but it turned into a grimace. They could all feel the young one's pain.

Avoiding trampling the boy turned out to be a very good point, because it was difficult not to dislodge anything and spill the debris onto the little form. Initiate Kenobi tried to help by grabbing at his ankles, which proved to be more of a hindrance. At last, Qui-Gon made it to his level, crouching with a leg on each side of the boy. He took a moment to take the child's face between his hands.

"You are doing well, alright?" He murmured, using the contact to form a deeper connection and assess the child's injuries. Kenobi nodded as more tears spilled, but he smiled tremulously.

"Thank you, Master."

Qui-Gon laughed a little. In agony, and still polite. "Anytime, little one," He used the Force to send soothing waves through the child, but it did not seem to help very much. The little face was cold and clammy. Below, two legs were both crushed and stuck. The boy will be in bacta for days, and then confined to a wheelchair for weeks.

"You're going to be fine," He stroked his forehead, and the child nodded, watery eyes trusting. Qui-Gon took the boy's hands. "Hold on to me. If it hurts, squeeze as hard as you can, alright?"

Kenobi nodded.

Qui-Gon turned his upper body around, one hand holding both of the boy's. "I need some light down here," He called up, "And please don't burn my hair. I didn't come back from a mission with it intact just so you can ruin it."

Childish giggles, choked with pain, bubbled from the initiate. He squeezed the little hands reassuringly.

It was Tahl who let her lightsaber down. "I'll hold it for you," She called down, "Lift them up and we'll take them from you."

Kenobi's grip was strong in his pain, and as the weight eased on his legs at one point the child outright fainted. He made a valiant enough effort to endure, and Qui-Gon could not help but be proud of him. What an amazing little one, He thought fondly, and hurried with the removal of the debris, occasionally using Tahl's lightsaber to slash through the rock.

It was two hours before the child was finally free.

"Hurry up Qui-Gon, get him up," Tahl called.

"I need a stretcher." Kenobi's legs were too damaged for Qui-Gon to feel comfortable moving him.

A stretcher was levitated down. Qui-Gon carefully shifted the boy onto it with some liberal application of the Force.

"We're getting you up, you ready?" The Jedi Master asked the little one.

Kenobi nodded. "Thank you for freeing me, Master Qui-Gon!"

Laughing would hurt the child's feelings. Qui-Gon settled for smiling widely at him. "Thank you, for being such a brave boy! You will make a wonderful Jedi someday! Now, up you go." He heaved, and used the Force to do the rest.

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi was the only youngling injured; everyone else suffered only mild bruises and scratches. The Jedi left the demolished area once all the children were freed, Mace yawning so widely his jaw popped out of its socket.

"Ow," The dark-skinned man groaned as he pushed his jaw back into place. "Ow."

"Where is Yoda?" Qui-Gon asked. He had been so preoccupied with the excavation that he had not wondered about the Grand Master after his initial thought.

"He's not here," Said Mace, "He's on Alderaan."

"This would have been much easier if he had been here."

"This would have been a lot easier if there were no fire to begin with, but eh, the past is the past." Mace grumbled a little. "I'm going to bed."

Bed sounded like a good idea. Qui-Gon rubbed his eyes, feeling absolutely exhausted now that the excitement was more or less over.

"You need to fix your lightsaber," Said Tahl. "It smells like dead fish."


	2. Bubbles and Laughter and Young Hearts

 

Predictably, within two hours of telling Tahl the whole story of how he fell into a lake and a fish chewed on his lightsaber, everyone in the temple knew.

"It's not that funny," Qui-Gon groused.

"Yes it is," Tahl insisted.

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"Are you really going to be this juvenile?"

"Look around. Everyone is laughing at you."

Qui-Gon huffed.

"I mean, of all the fish you could have encountered, you had to find a fish that would actually break into your lightsaber hilt. The Force was with us on that one."

"So you can laugh at me?"

"Exactly so."

They were sitting in his apartment, Tahl on one couch and Qui-Gon on another, each nursing a glass of berry juice because both were in the mood for something sweet. Qui-Gon was filling out his report while Tahl looked through his datapads, her glass held away so she would not short-circuit them and cause Qui-Gon to lose everything.

"You are sure he is dead?"

"I saw him get swallowed," Qui-Gon said without looking up, "I know that there are creatures in this galaxy that take about a thousand years to digest something properly, but I'm fairly certain that this one's teeth would have chewed him to pieces before he even entered its stomach."

"Thank you for that wonderful image," Tahl tossed one datapad to the carpet.

"Hm!" Said Qui-Gon. He added a few editions to his report and set it down with a sigh to stretch his fingers. "Want to come with me to submit the report?"

"Sure," Tahl drained her glass.

They headed out into the halls. A master and his padawan passed by with a slight incline of their heads towards the pair. Qui-Gon and Tahl nodded back.

"I miss having a padawan," Qui-Gon said idly. "Maybe this year I'll attend the matches and see if there are any suitable younglings for me to take."

"I thought you didn't want another padawan. Too much work, you said."

"Well, yes, they are a lot of work, but that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it all the same. Some parts of it."

"You just want a padawan to cook for you so you wouldn't have to do it yourself."

"That too," He conceded.

* * *

Four days after Qui-Gon arrived back at the temple, he went to the healing wing to get some headache pills so he would not become feral in his search when he did have a headache. The floors were unusually sticky for a place where hygiene was very important.

"Initiates," Said the padawan at the front desk as she retrieved the drugs for him. "We've been trying to confiscate the bottles but the boy is a bit too clever for us, for now."

Qui-Gon ducked his head through the door just in time to catch Initiate Kenobi blowing more bubbles. The boy squeaked and tried to hide the bottle under his pillow, but it was too late. Around his bed, numerous little orbs popped with tiny splashes in the air.

"Don't Créche Masters normally wean you off these naughty tendencies?" The man asked as he walked into the room. Kenobi giggled, his laughter sounding like bells, and he kept the bottle behind him with an impishly stubborn grin. His legs were both in casts, and it was a wonder how the child could move at all with his lower body so immobilized. Some of the bubbles landed and stuck to his blankets.

"No!" He cried out laughingly, "Bubbles are fun! It's so boring in here, please? Don't take it away!"

"Give that to me, Initiate," Qui-Gon said sternly.

"Aw," The boy lifted the bottle and handed it to him obediently.

"If you are so bored," He went on, "You should try reading for your classes. You are missing coursework while you are here."

"I did," The child pouted a little, and then quickly added, "Master. I just got tired of reading. It's just a few bubbles. I don't know why everyone's so upset."

"Your bubbles are making the floor sticky, little one. They'd have to clean it more because of this." There was the faint smell of soap clinging to the area around the bed as the last few bubbles popped out of existence.

Kenobi seemed openly surprised. "Oh," He said in a tiny voice. "I'm sorry."

Qui-Gon smiled, wondering momentarily at the warm feeling in his chest. He reached forward to ruffle the child's hair. "Your name is Kenobi?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," The boy looked timid, as if afraid giving Qui-Gon a name for the prankster would get him in even more trouble.

"My name is Qui-Gon Jinn," He said. He was sure the boy had heard it before, but he might have forgotten.

"I remember," The boy smiled brilliantly at him, "You got me out when I was trapped. Thanks again!"

The man chuckled. Were all children this adorable? He did not remember it this way. "You're very welcome, little one. We were all very proud of you, do you know that? You were very brave back there." He smoothed his hand gently over the casts. "How are you doing?"

"I'm alright," Said the child, "It's sore and it itches, and I'm not allowed to move them." His hands fidgeted.

"Have you tried meditating?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Yes," The boy looked disappointed again, "But it's so distracting, and whenever I try it cuts in and I can't relax unless I'm tired, but then I go to sleep when I'm tired."

The warm feeling in his chest grew. "I can help you, if you want."

Kenobi's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Master Jinn?" The padawan from the front desk tapped the door. "Oh good, you found the bottle." She was holding his headache pills.

"Thank you, Padawan," Said Qui-Gon, handing the bottle over. He wondered where Obi-Wan had been hiding the bottle, but figured some things were better left alone. Kenobi watched them expectantly from the bed.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Master Jinn?"

"Nothing else. Thank you, Padawan." She bowed at him, and he nodded his head, watching her return to the desk.

Kenobi stretched his arms out to him eagerly once she was gone. He looked like he was requesting a hug, and was so enthusiastic that he started tugging at Qui-Gon through the Force to bring him closer.. "Can you help me meditate? Please? Please?"

* * *

Obi-Wan was not the easiest youngster to lead into a meditation. The boy was suffering from his broken legs, and it was translating to general restlessness. He made a valiant effort to control himself, but it was difficult for the boy. Qu-Gon spent several minutes just trying to get the child to calm down before they slipped into a mutual trance.

It was an absurd experience, being with Obi-Wan in the currents of the Force. The Light Side seemed to be laughing endlessly, singing and giggling in a chorus of childish voices, and there was nothing but light and joy, a sheer pleasure at being alive and a wonder at the galaxy around them. Qui-Gon found himself being led by the boy as they explored the dipping waves, being shown everything the child could think of, even though as a Jedi Master, he was familiar with much of what he was shown. Obi-Wan liked colors, liked songs, liked soft things and interesting things, and his attentions were unfocused, undirected, scattered in the energies around them. Yet there was an inherent integrity, and Obi-Wan never lost himself in the gentle chaos around them. A little imp, darting back and forth in the mighty Force, which regarded the child with a mix of baffled amusement and fond exasperation.

For his part, Qui-Gon had never felt so young. It was as if the child's own youth had seeped into him, so bright and energetic and untainted. It was a new experience, fresh and untried, and he had never met any child like this before. Obi-Wan was so enthusiastic and boundless, he was a bit overwhelmed.

Like all children, though, the youngling was not very aware of his own limits. The meditative trance faded quickly as the boy's energy wore out, and when Qui-Gon opened his eyes, Obi-Wan was sleeping soundly, breathing deep like a baby.

* * *

"You look happy," Tahl observed as they got some tea from the dining hall.

Qui-Gon's lips refused to stop grinning, even though his cheeks hurt. "I'm going to the Créche Master later."

"Why? I thought you were going to wait for the matches."

Qui-Gon did not answer.

"You have someone in mind already, don't you?"

He tried, he really did, but his grin only widened.

"I think it is the will of the Force."

"Who is it?" Tahl asked. "It's that child that was buried, isn't it? The one you went down for to free. What's his name again?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"He's a little young, isn't he?"

"Not too young."

"He's small."

"They're all small."

"You've already decided, haven't you?" Tahl breathed out. "Stubborn man. Very well. Go to your Créche Master. Why do you have to go, anyway? You can visit Obi-Wan whenever you want; there are no restrictions in that regard."

"I just want to learn more about him," Qui-Gon admitted, "I have a feeling he is an unusual child."

Tahl raised her eyebrows skeptically, so he explained the meditation session to her.

"No," She shook her head, "I don't think it's unusual. I think he's just a sweet kid, and he might have bonded with you somehow, for, you know, freeing him."

Qui-Gon chuckled. "That makes sense too." It did not change the fact that Obi-Wan was still special.

A spike of fear suddenly shot through his spine, and he jerked. What was that?

"Qui?" Tahl blinked. "What is it?"

Fear was quickly followed by rage. It was distant, not his own, but it felt very familiar, tingling with the hints of youth and innocence that Qui-Gon had been submerged in not long ago.

"It's Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon whirled around. Tahl was right behind him.

* * *

"Why don't you just leave me alone, Chun?"

"What is all this yelling?" The healers called out, before there was the sound of something crashing. "Initiate Kenobi, control yourself!"

"He started it!"

The remark was so familiar that Qui-Gon half expected to hear an elderly voice chirping, "I care not! It matters not! Unacceptable, your behavior is!"

Too bad Yoda would be away for at least another three days.

He reached out through the Force to Obi-Wan's bright presence. The child shied away from his touch at first, very irritated and harassed, but calmed down considerably once he realized who it was.

"I was just visiting," Another boy snapped, as Qui-Gon and Tahl made their way into the room.

"No he wasn't—"

"Enough, both of you!" The healer said furiously. "Whatever reason you have is not good enough for throwing the monitor across the room like that! Are you trying to kill him?"

"Yes," Said the boy standing in front of Obi-Wan's bed.

Obi-Wan blinked, and Qui-Gon sensed, inexplicably, that the boy had not meant to throw anything across the room at all, but the child was at a loss as to how to explain this.

"Your Créche Master will be hearing from me, young man," The healer said to Obi-Wan sternly, before turning to the boy. "And you as well, Initiate Chun. If you are incapable of avoiding antagonizing my patients by being here, take yourself out!"

"But—"

"Not another word from you!"

Chun scowled a little, but meekly left, and the healer turned her exasperated gaze onto Qui-Gon. "Is there something I can do for you, Masters?"

"No," Tahl said, "We just sensed a commotion and were wondering if there was anything we could do for you." Qui-Gon moved to help a padawan lift the shattered monitor.

The healer released a breath. "Well, the excitement is over, thank you for the offer nonetheless. I am going to ring up the créche."

Obi-Wan fisted the sheets, unable to raise his eyes. Tahl noticed Qui-Gon looking at him and briskly took over the cleanup.

The tall Jedi walked over to the boy and sat down at the edge of the bed. Around the child, the Force simmered in barely controlled anger. Obi-Wan was not releasing it as he should, which was a little worrying at this age.

Qui-Gon glanced around the bed for a moment, noting that there was a datapad on the floor. He used the Force to collect it and settled it on his lap.

"Obi-Wan," He said gently, "Can you tell me what happened?"

The child swallowed, still unable to lift his eyes. Qui-Gon reached out to smooth his hair gently. "Obi-Wan," He called again.

The Force rippled again, fear and uncertainty laced with crushing disappointment. At least the boy knew he was in the wrong, but it was just so odd. At nine years old, he should be able to rein in his temper better.

"Obi-Wan, I want to help you, but I can't if you won't talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about…Master Jinn." A tear dropped, and the child's fists tightened as if furious at the slip. "I messed up."

"You did," Qui-Gon agreed, restraining the urge to wipe the young cheek, "But I want to know why, so you won't mess up again, alright, little one? You didn't hurt anyone."

"I broke the monitor."

"You didn't hurt anyone, and that's all that matters." The same could not be said for whoever started the fire that crushed the boy's legs.

Obi-Wan remained stubbornly silent.

Perhaps the best way was to start himself, and let Obi-Wan fill in the holes in the story. Qui-Gon looked at the datapad.

"Is this yours?"

Obi-Wan nodded.

"Did you throw this at him?"

A shake. Negative.

"How did this end up on the floor?"

Another tear dropped. There was a misery in the Force now, mixed with indignation.

"Did he take this from you?" Qui-Gon asked.

Obi-Wan did not react, but it was an affirmative.

Tahl stood up, stretching her back. "I think there are still more shards. Is there a broom around here?"

"In the back," Said the padawan, "In the closet."

"Alright," She folded her bangs behind her ear and went to retrieve the broom and dustbin.

Qui-Gon glanced down at the datapad and turned it on. An essay flickered into existence, the last sentence unfinished and ending with a series of nonsensical characters.

"You were doing your homework," The Jedi Master realized. "He took it from you." It is hard to use the Force to pull an item out of a physical grip, unless it was by surprise.

"He was deleting all my stuff." Obi-Wan wiped at his eyes, but still refused to look at him. His voice choked with restrained sobs. "He was going to delete the whole file. I couldn't get up. I wanted to stop him, break his focus."

"So you threw the monitor at him?"

The boy sniffed miserably.

"Why didn't you call for help?"

Obi-Wan sniffed again. "I didn't want to."

"You didn't want to?"

There was more to the story, but the child did not know how to articulate it. There was a despondent and resigned air about the Force now, as if the boy did not want to bother telling him the whole story. You wouldn't understand.

"Say it slowly," Said Qui-Gon, "You didn't want to call the healers? Is it because you thought they would be mad at you?"

A shake of the head. No.

"Is it because you…worry about what he would do?"

There was a slight hesitation at this, but the answer was still a negative.

"It's stupid," The child mumbled, lowering his head even more. "I'm sorry, Master."

"No, don't do that, don't give up on me." Qui-Gon lifted his chin. Why was this child so resigned? Had he had this problem before and no one listened? "I want to know, and anything that makes you this upset can never be stupid, understand?"

Obi-Wan nodded, but he did not seem to believe him.

It had been years since Qui-Gon was his age, but he tried to think what a nine-year-old would do in this situation. A nine-year-old boy, facing a bully, and he did not want to call for help. An adult.

"You wanted to stand up to him yourself, right?" He guessed. "Because otherwise he would just make fun of you later, for running to adults?"

Obi-Wan finally gazed up at him, worrying his lip between his teeth.

"Stop that," Qui-Gon gently rubbed downwards on his chin to pull the lip out. "Listen to me, that is not stupid at all, but that doesn't make it right." The boy lowered his eyes again. "There's nothing wrong with finding help if you need it. There is no shame in that. You should have seen me, when I was nine years old."

It occurred to him that he had no reason to believe Obi-Wan was actually nine years old, other than that he looked like a nine-year-old, but Obi-Wan visibly perked up at this, and the estimate seemed correct.

"You know Master Yoda?"

"Yeah."

"Let me tell you a secret," Qui-Gon mock-whispered, "I use to be really really scared of bugs."

"Really?" There was that sweet smile again. "But only girls are scared of bugs…Oh!" The boy clapped both hands to his mouth as he realized how tactless the remark was.

How is it that he is so endearing? Qui-Gon smothered a laugh. "Yes, well, you can imagine how embarrassing that was for me! But one time, when we were at the Room of a Thousand Fountains, I found this huge cockroach. It was this big," He held his fingers out to about four inches, and saw Obi-Wan's eyes grow wide. "And this wide, and it was the scariest, ugliest cockroach I had ever seen. I didn't want to kill it, because it was an innocent cockroach, but it was such an ugly cockroach, and I wanted to get rid of it. I didn't want to touch it myself, so I went to get Master Yoda."

Obi-Wan's grin turned impish, anticipating the turn the story would take.

"Master Yoda was saying, 'Oh, what is this? Disturb me, you will, for a mere insect in a garden?' And guess what happened next?"

"What happened?" Obi-Wan's voice was breathless with excitement.

"He saw the cockroach, and screamed. He was even more scared of it than I was!" Qui-Gon held out his hand to remind Obi-Wan of Yoda's height. "At that point, I was a little taller than he was, so it must have seemed even bigger to him!"

Obi-Wan clutched his stomach as he collapsed in a fit of giggles, careful not to jostle his still healing legs.

"So there was Grand Master Yoda, waving his walking stick and yelling, and he called to one of the Jedi padawans, who removed with cockroach with a glare of disgust at both of us." Qui-Gon finished with a smile. "So you see, even the most powerful living Jedi needed help with a mere cockroach."

Obi-Wan bubbled with laughter. "It was a big cockroach though!"

"Yes it was."

He allowed the child to laugh a little longer, before getting back to the main point. "So you see, there is nothing wrong with asking for help, especially when you need it. Do you think any less of Master Yoda now, knowing that he needed help with a cockroach?"

"No," Obi-Wan smiled happily. "The cockroach probably did though."

"Perhaps," Qui-Gon was pleased, because this followed up with his other point, "But no one else cares what the cockroach thought of Master Yoda, just as no one would care what Initiate Chun thinks of you."

They fell into a contented silence, as Obi-Wan mused over the story.

"Are you still afraid of bugs?" He asked Qui-Gon.

Not very, after so many missions, but that did not mean he liked them. "I am, a little."

"But you're so big," The child said.

"And you are bigger than them too. Would you like to handle the cockroach I saw?"

Obi-Wan shook his head desperately. "No!" He laughed.

"That's the last of it," Tahl announced, giving one last sweep. She glanced at Qui-Gon. "What are your plans?"

Qui-Gon started to stand, which meant putting the datapad aside. Obi-Wan's expression instantly fell when he saw it. He might have something to think about regarding calling adults for help, but his homework was still tampered with.

"I think I'll help Obi-Wan with his homework," Qui-Gon said smoothly.

Tahl cocked an eyebrow.

"You have nothing else to do?" She asked unhelpfully.

"No."

He turned around, looking at Obi-Wan's gaping expression, and winked.

"Hopeless," Tahl lamented to herself as she walked out. "Totally hopeless."


	3. Counter-Arguments

 

"He's always had a bit of a problem with his temper," Said the Créche Master, "It's not just anger, however. He's…passionate. When he is happy, he gets really happy, and when he is upset the whole room feels it. It's a shame, really, he's quite talented." She pulled out the hard copy of Obi-Wan's file. "He's one of the best with the lightsaber, and very skilled with mechanics, even at this young age. Master Yoda has been working with him regarding his emotions, but so far there has not been much progress."

"Well," Qui-Gon stated as he glanced over the file. Name: Kenobi, Obi-Wan, Gender: Male, Birthdate… "He seems to be having trouble with one initiate in particular, Chun, I believe?"

"Oh yes," Said the other Jedi, "Bruck Chun has an even worse control than Obi-Wan. It does seem that Bruck initiates most of their quarrels, but it's usually with little things, name-calling and insults. I don't know what to do about Obi-Wan…Bruck honestly seems like a lost cause at this point, but if I could get Kenobi to stop reacting so violently to his taunts, he might be chosen before his thirteenth birthday."

Qui-Gon frowned. "Did you get the report from the healers earlier?"

"Oh, were you there? Yes, I did, in fact. Obi-Wan threw a monitor at Bruck, from what I understand, though no one got hurt. I had a word with Bruck so far, I haven't had a chance to speak to Obi-Wan yet."

"I had a word with him already," Qui-Gon said uncomfortably, "I was there."

"Oh, you were?"

"I think Obi-Wan has a problem with articulation," He frowned even more, "I was able to gather that Initiate Chun had been sabotaging his homework. This seems a little more serious than mere name-calling, and it would explain why Obi-Wan has such a difficult time reining in his temper. It was a bit difficult to get this story out of him; if this is consistent with the other conflicts, it will be logical to conclude that since he is unable to fully explain his side of the story, it would be harder to teach him to deal with his issues."

"Bruck was sabotaging his homework?" The Créche Master rubbed her face. "What am I going to do with that boy? He'll never be trained by a master at this point. Despite my years of working with the younglings, sometimes I feel like I just don't understand them. Like why Kenobi never mentioned anything like this before."

Qui-Gon was not entirely certain either. "Something about standing up for himself, I think, but I wouldn't know where he got this from." He held up the files. "Thank you for these."

"Oh, no trouble at all, Master Jinn." The other Jedi smiled uncomfortably at him, no doubt still thinking about Chun.

* * *

"You still look funny," Qui-Gon told Mace. His jaw was still a bit swollen from when he had popped it out of its socket.

"Really? Well a fish chewed on your lightsaber."

Two could play that game. "Oh really? Well you're bald."

Mace rubbed his head. "Hm! I refuse to pursue this line of conversation. What's that?"

"One of the initiates," Qui-Gon waved the flimsies.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi?" Mace moved closer to the table to allow a padawan to pass. The archives were unusually full today because several classes had term papers due. "Is that the one whose legs were crushed?"

"The same."

"He was cute," Mace reflected, "In a sad way, crying while smiling. I think I'd like him as my padawan."

Qui-Gon shut the folder. "Are we going to have to duel over a child, Mace?"

"Bah! You'll lose."

"You don't know that."

"That's true, I don't." Mace finally took a seat on the opposite side. "He's kind of young though, don't you think?"

"Nine is not that far from twelve. Or eleven. It's only two or three years."

"Not for them it isn't. They have a lot of growing in those two to three years. Are you sure you want to take care of a youngster so early? It's better to leave that to the Créche Masters; we have it hard enough to train padawans for ten to fifteen years."

"I like the boy," Qui-Gon opened the folder again to look at another review, along with grades. "Why wait?"

"Huh." He could feel Mace staring at him. "That's…abrupt. Did the Force do a dance and point you toward him?"

"The Force doesn't dance, Mace."

"The Force dances you."

Qui-Gon whacked at him with the folder. "Are you going to say something useful, or are you going to keep making fun of me?"

"Well, all joking aside…are you sure, Qui-Gon? You were pretty adamant last time that you weren't going to take another padawan. You wanted your own life for a change, or so you said. Each child will be different, and we're not even certain if he is…well, good enough."

"He's good with the lightsaber," Qui-Gon said, looking at the comments, "High marks on everything, ahead of his class. Negotiating does need work though, if what I saw was anything to go by, but he's not shy," He paused, "And I like him. That's the most important part."

Mace looked wary. "You're not supposed to choose padawans because you like them, Qui."

Qui-Gon shut the folder again and slammed it lightly on the table. "Did you really just say that, Mace?"

"Fine, but it's not the only criteria you need."

"I know. That's why I'm looking at his files."

"You said he's not good at negotiating."

"What nine-year-old is good at negotiating?" Qui-Gon cocked an eyebrow. "If we really expected these children to be good at this sort of thing, our matches would not only be of lightsaber combat."

Mace inclined his head in concession. He drew a flimsy over to read while Qui-Gon continued to browse.

"He's passionate."

"Mm."

"Maybe Master Yoda can offer some more insight. He's still at that age where he works with Yoda."

"I'll ask him when he comes back from Alderaan."

"Hm. Brave boy though. Didn't make a sound when the debris fell on him. Other children would probably start bawling."

"You're not getting Obi-Wan without a duel."

"We are not going to duel over a youngling, Qui."

"Then you know to back off my initiate."

"Oh, so he's your initiate already? You've picked him already?"

"I like what I'm reading."

He did. The boy was intelligent, eager to learn. He apparently had three good friends that he was especially close to. The files mentioned Bruck Chun, how the animosity between the two was worrisome, but there was no doubt in any of the reviewers that Obi-Wan was a kindhearted lad, if a bit excitable.

What healthy boy was not?

"You better give that back," Qui-Gon held out his hand for the flimsy, "I don't want you seeing what I'm seeing."

Mace flicked the flimsy to him. "You bonded with this child quite suddenly," He observed, before standing up and thumping Qui-Gon on the shoulder. "I'll see you later."

* * *

Yoda blinked owlishly when Qui-Gon inquired about Obi-Wan.

"Interested in Kenobi, are you?"

"Obviously."

Yoda thwacked him on the shin with his walking stick for his smart answer. "A good boy, Kenobi is. Bad at controlling his temper, he is, and a bad match, the two of you make."

Qui-Gon blinked at this. "Wh-what?"

The Grand Master shook his head. "Strong in the Unifying Force, he is. Strong in the Living Force, you are. Unable to teach him, you are; unable to learn from you, he is."

Qui-Gon blinked rapidly, trying not to reveal how his heart had just plummeted past his stomach.

"Well," He stammered, following after Yoda quickly as the short Jedi master hobbled away, "Wait, but, if he's already strong in the Unifying Force, then—well, I can only be good for him, right? He'd be balanced."

That was pathetic.

Yoda gave him a look that pretty much said the same thing. "Young, Obi-Wan is. Time, there is, for both of you. Besides, declare you no longer want padawans, did you not?"

"You were always calling me foolish. Can't I change my mind about these things?"

The Grand Master gave him another look.

"Tell me, young one, why interested in him, are you?"

Qui-Gon experienced what Obi-Wan must have went through whenever he was asked what happened with Bruck.

"I'm not sure," He said after a hesitation, "I feel…drawn to him." He tried to describe it better. "When I visited him…I could feel his emotions, even more clearly than with my own padawans." It was only saying this now that he realized how bizarre this was, and he mentally kicked himself for not noticing this sooner. "Unless this is how everyone feels around him, I think we bonded already, Master Yoda."

"Hm." Yoda's face pinched a little.

Qui-Gon sighed, rubbing the back of his head in distress. Really? Unifying Force?

"Balance, he may need," Yoda said at last, "But wait, you two should. Still healing, he is, and some trials to follow, he still has. Time, there is, for both of you, to consider this alliance."

* * *

"You are not moping, are you?" Tahl patted him on the shoulder as she slipped past him and headed to the kitchens. "You're not allowed to do that after you've been knighted."

"I'm not moping."

I'm totally moping.

"If this is because of that boy, Qui, I swear I will smack you until your teeth fall out." She opened the cupboards.

"Yoda says I shouldn't train him."

"Really? Why not?"

"Because he has different talents than I can teach him."

"Well, that's only natural, padawans aren't all like their masters."

"He's strong in the Unifying Force. I am strong in the Living Force. I am absolutely blind to the future, or the past. My strength is in the present, which is precisely Obi-Wan's weakness."

"I notice that you keep calling him by his first name now." Tahl poured herself some berry juice. "Hm! Is it just me or has this thing gotten tangier since I last drank from it?"

"He's better off with someone strong in the Unifying Force." Qui-Gon ignored her, mostly talking to himself, "I mean, it's best if he found a master who is strong in the same area. It was how Dooku was with me. He was strong in the Living Force, and so was I."

"Do you have any cheese?" Tahl asked. "I have this craving for cheese."

"If he studies with me, he won't be able to grow in his talents and he will never be able to take advantage of my knowledge. The responsible thing would be to give him up to someone else."

"You need to keep more cheese in your fridge, Qui."

"A Jedi has no attachments."

"What's this brown stuff?"

Qui-Gon sighed heavily, leaning back on the couch.

Tahl shut the refrigerator door. "Is the child so special that you are this torn up about not having him as a padawan?"

Qui-Gon stared at her. "I know. I'm pathetic."

Tahl drained her glass and set it on the counter. "Come on, we're sparring."

* * *

"It was like the Force is Laughter. Happy, joyful laughter." Qui-Gon parried, then lunged. Tahl blocked. "He was like a child dragging his parent around in a mall. He showed me all these things, and the Force just…adored him. I've never seen anything like it. Everything was just so beautiful, and it was because his presence was there. He just had that wonderful perspective. It might be a result of his passionate nature? I don't know. But it was the most…absurdly wonderful thing I have ever experienced. He was like a little imp, wandering around a garden, and the garden lets him because he was just so precious."

Tahl drew back, blowing out a breath.

"Well, I certainly never experienced anything like what you're saying. It's a little troubling that a nine-year-old needed a master's help to meditate."

"I don't think most nine-year-old younglings tend to have both legs crushed under debris."

"Point." She slashed, and he ducked.

"His files said he's fine with meditation. Any child would have a problem when dealing with pain." He slashed next, and she blocked. They stopped talking briefly to exchange blows.

"Well, you obviously already developed some kind of bond with the young one. If it's mutual," Tahl gritted her teeth with an effort as their blades clashed, "You should pursue it, unless the Force wills otherwise. Have you meditated on this yet?"

"Not really," Qui-Gon admitted.

Tahl froze and glared at him in amazement and exasperation.

"And you already started moping? You call yourself a master?"

Qui-Gon fidgeted under her glower.

"I don't call myself a master. Other people call me master."

"Men! You never grow up!"

In truth, Qui-Gon was, for the first time, afraid to meditate. It was not very fitting of a Jedi, but Qui-Gon would be the last to claim that he was a perfect Jedi. Still, he was too pragmatic to lie to himself, and meditation had a way of allowing one to accept the state of affairs. There had been a reason he met Obi-Wan, had bonded with him so quickly. Perhaps he would not ultimately be the boy's master, but Obi-Wan's temper was a point of concern, crucial enough that other available masters may choose to reject him as a padawan. He had been able to connect with the boy—perhaps the Force guided him to the child to help him with his emotions.

It was not a very satisfying thought, but it seemed probable given the situation. From an unbiased point of view, the two really were not a good match. A Jedi who was strong in the Unifying Force had a very different mindset from one who was strong in the Living Force. The Living Force was all about the present, letting the Force guide one's actions and ignoring the consequences. It required a level of trust in the Force, a trust that requires the strong bond with that aspect of the Force those like Dooku and Qui-Gon had. The Unifying Force was completely different—it was all about weighing the past and the future to decide the present. The Force did not guide a person directly—there is no such connection between them, rather the Jedi is faced with choices and must choose wisely to select the best possible outcome. A Jedi like Obi-Wan who attempted to follow the methods of the Living Force would be constantly led astray, because they tug on the wrong strings. A Jedi like Qui-Gon attempting to follow the methods of the Unifying Force would also make many mistakes, because they would constantly ignore the correct path the Force already laid out for them. Qui-Gon could no more teach Obi-Wan how to follow the Living Force than he could teach him how to breathe in a vacuum, and the Jedi Master was so ill-versed in the Unifying Force, he could not fake any sort of guidance on that subject.

But how he wanted…and a Jedi should not desire, but Qui-Gon was not called a maverick for nothing, and he could not resist how the Force sung when the two meditated together, and his own heart soared in response, like a father setting eyes on his child for the first time. Already, he could hear echoes of Obi-Wan's young laughter.

"Someone needs to stay in the present," Tahl said with a turned lip. "Are you going to meditate or not?"

"I'm going, I'm going, you slave driver," Qui-Gon made a face at her as he used the Force to summon a towel to wipe his face with. "What is it with women and their need to boss people around?"

He did not bother ducking the Force swat that smacked into the back of his head when he turned away.

* * *

Meditation was usually a soothing, quiet affair, but Qui-Gon missed the sparkling, enchanting joy of Obi-Wan's presence next to his mind. It was different with different Jedi, but Obi-Wan's trance had been strange for someone strong in the Unifying Force. The Living Force had a distinctive Light Side and Dark Side, and those who followed the Light Side would be elevated, while those who followed the Dark Side would destroy themselves, like the Sith. The Unifying Force, according to Yoda, was a single entity that favored neither the Light nor the Dark, and as a result, most Jedi strove to follow the Living Force if they could, as the Unifying Force could easily muddle their minds and hearts. The Grand Master had claimed that his meditations showed him things that were, things that are, and things that can be. There was a certain healing infused in his meditations, but his strength was derived more from a sense of purpose than from the Force. "Our strength lies in our choices," Yoda had explained to him, "Your strength lies in your actions," and despite his rather considerable years, Qui-Gon still had no idea what the difference was. Still, he did know that the Unifying Force, by its nature, was less pure, and yet Obi-Wan's was just clean, untainted light. There had also been no real visions, just a level of existence in an environment of radiance, without past, present, or future possibilities.

If the Unifying Force was actually like that, Qui-Gon might indulge in a little envy for those who had that talent. Once he finished laughing at Yoda for being so wrong. The pain in his shins would be worth it.

Should he fight? Should he persist and be adamant about Obi-Wan? The boy was unusual, for certain, and it could be that Yoda was wrong after all. The Grand Master was not infallible, and he was in charge of many younglings at once. He would not have confused Obi-Wan with someone else, but he could get some details wrong. Children were taught how to meditate from an early age, and by the time they were six they could manage on their own. It could be that Obi-Wan's talents shifted in that time. It could be that Obi-Wan mastered the Unifying Force, and did not need more training in it.

He was grasping at loose straws. Qui-Gon forced himself to remain neutral. What should he do about Obi-Wan? His heart longed for it, longed to train the boy. The Force had always guided his heart, could it be wrong? He had never been wrong before, not when he listened to it.

Suppose he gives Obi-Wan up to another who shared his supposed talent.

Masters of the Unifying Force would only see what Obi-Wan could become. It was how such Force-users think. Their minds were always of the future, of destiny. They would see Obi-Wan's childish passion and foretell darkness and misery. Even the incidents with the bubbles would be viewed as a sign that he was unworthy. Qui-Gon knew how their thought processes turn. They would not see a cute nine-year-old boy. They would see an irritable, volatile man. They would not even try to meditate with him, instead simply ordering him to release his passion into the Force…and completely miss what an extraordinary mind he possessed.

It's not about training his Force-talents, Qui-Gon realized, It's not even him being a Jedi. It's just him. His personality, his wisdom, his temperament, his serenity, his happiness, independent of the Living Force or the Unifying Force. Another Jedi would beat that joy out of Obi-Wan. Happiness was not conducive to Jedi calm.

And the Force would lose this creature of sparkling laughter and animated curiosity.

Qui-Gon opened his eyes.

* * *

"Master Yoda, I want to take Obi-Wan Kenobi as my padawan."

"Not even a good evening, or apology!" The Grand Master scowled up at him, still in his nightclothes and blinking groggily at him. "Looking at you, think, one would, that no manners, we have taught! Just for this, wake me up, did you?"

On occasion, Qui-Gon found himself inadvertently speaking like Yoda after talking to him. "Meditated about the boy, I have." He blinked rapidly and tried to remember how to speak properly.

"Meditated, have you?" Yoda cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes. And take the boy, I want…as my padawan." Sith. He thought he had corrected his speech pattern that time. "Brought us together…The Force…The Force brought us together." For crying out loud, I'm over forty years old and I'm blabbering like a youngling…

"Saw it in the will of the Force, did you, or wanted to see this way, you did?"

Qui-Gon hesitated. "I was willing to see this in the Force, so it was easier."

"Hmph!" Yoda huffed. "And agree to this, the boy has?"

"No…" He is still sleeping.

"Talk about this when the sun is up, we will!" Yoda snapped. "To bed, you go!"

* * *

"I think you're being ridiculous." Kit's heavy head-tresses swung as he walked. "What is so special about a single child that you have to wake Master Yoda up in the wee hours of the morning?"

It, admittedly, had been an impulsive act on Qui-Gon's part, and definitely not worthy of his many years as master.

"You barely know the child, he barely knows you, he is still young enough to find a suitable master and you, frankly, are not suitable for him. As much of a maverick as you are, Qui-Gon, you are not such a radical that you can use the Living Force as the Unifying Force and vice versa."

Qui-Gon sighed heavily at this.

"I agree," Said Shaak Ti. "This is not a trivial difference. You will deprive the boy gravely if you take him as a padawan. Your gifts do not match. Now a future partnership, once he becomes a knight and a master, you two can balance each other, but he still has most of his training left to a master."

"I know." Qui-Gon sighed again.

"You're still going to pursue this, aren't you?" Kit remarked wryly.

"Well, there already is a bond, for better or for worse," Said Qui-Gon.

"You can break it," Said the Nautolan, "It's early enough, plus it's likely formed due to your initial rescue of him, which is natural enough. I would not persist with this if I were you, Qui-Gon."

Qui-Gon was silent.

"You don't want to," Shaak Ti stated.

"I think your attachment to the boy has clouded your judgment."

Qui-Gon sighed more heavily at this. "It could be that I should be his master for other reasons—have you thought of that?"

"Perhaps," Said Shaak Ti, "But they would have to be very good ones, in the face of this rather serious contrast."

* * *

"You are insane," Said Mace. "You should have discarded this idea as soon as Master Yoda told you he was strong in the Unifying Force. I really doubt there is a single master more pathetic with visions than you. Any one of us would be more suitable than you."

Qui-Gon's lips twisted at this.

"See him, we will," Said Yoda as his hoverchair floated forward, "Talk, we will after."

Tahl was silent behind them as they continued toward the healing wing.

Obi-Wan was in a hoverchair similar to Yoda's, thin legs now in splints rather than casts. The boy was testing out the controls for the first time as his three friends watched. One of them was a Mon Calamari girl who looked rather like the one that was trapped under the rubble.

"I can't wait for them to finish rebuilding," One of the boys exclaimed as the Jedi masters made their way to the room, "They've sealed that section off but I don't see anyone going in to do anything."

The children then turned their heads as one once the adults entered, and Qui-Gon was struck by the differences. Obi-Wan's friends were the epitome of proper Jedi initiates, with grave countenances and a proper, calm posture. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, grinned broadly at the adults, and dipped his head in an imitation of the bow his friends executed.

Not inappropriate, but certainly more expressive than most nine-year-old initiates.

Mace and Tahl glanced at each other.

"Masters," The children murmured.

"Initiate Kenobi," Yoda hovered his chair forward, "How feel you?"

"Better, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan was still smiling widely, "They said I can move around and attend classes now!" Then he started giggling, "I got a chair just like yours!"

Yoda did smile at this. "Mm. Good, good. Good, improvement is."

Obi-Wan then beamed at Qui-Gon, the little one's Force signature singing to him in anticipation. The other children, noticeably, were controlling their feelings.

A fault, Qui-Gon knew. The others would see this as a fault. He stepped forward and knelt in front of the boy.

"Have you been meditating properly?" He asked with a smile.

Obi-Wan nodded eagerly, giggling a little. "It was easier after you helped, Master."

The Force jingled around them, soft, gentle, happy. He heard Mace inhale sharply, but most of his attention was focused on the boy. It occurred to him that they could hardly expect the child to be able to contain himself when the Force danced so enthusiastically around him, like a parent at a dear child. Usually, at this age, the Force settles, becoming soothing, calm waves instead of the playful turns around Obi-Wan.

"Do you want to come walk with me in the gardens?" He asked.

"We can find another giant cockroach, Master?"

Yoda snorted.

"I hope not!" Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows, "I don't like giant cockroaches."

Obi-Wan giggled. "Alright. Giant butterflies."

"Giant butterflies, then." Qui-Gon rose. "Your friends can come along, if they want."

"Yes! Yes they do, Master!" Obi-Wan nodded eagerly at his friends, who looked more nervous about this than excited. "Come on, Garen! Reeft! Bant! Ow!" He winced, abruptly going still, having jarred his legs in his excitement.

Qui-Gon stroked his hands down the young one's legs, infusing them with a stream of the Living Force. Obi-Wan gasped at this.

"How did you do that, Master?" He asked in amazement, "Can you teach me how to do that, Master?"

A heavy silence fell unintentionally at this. Obi-Wan blinked, alarmed by this. "S-sorry, Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon smiled at him, trying not to look wistful. "We shall see, young one. Come, let's go to the gardens. You can introduce me to your friends."

"You can introduce me to yours too!"

Qui-Gon laughed loudly at this, while Mace and Tahl snorted.

"Yes," He said, "Of course I will, little one."


	4. Deliberations

 

Qui-Gon had predicted as much, but it was still disappointing when no one supported his hopes to claim Obi-Wan as his padawan. Only Tahl did not openly reject the idea, though she was a bit skeptical of this.

"Think more on this," She encouraged him, "He is still young, and there is still time."

Time for you to find someone else.

There was certainly no time to pursue the matter immediately, because after a few more days, Qui-Gon was summoned to go on another mission off Coruscant. It was a mission with Mace, and the two were soon engrossed in the details of the mission rather than any talk of padawans and initiates.

"See, this is what I don't like. Servathi was never trained at the Temple, nor even trained, really, and she was left to gallivant with her Force powers without any guidance whatsoever among the vilest of sentients. Can we really blame her for succumbing to the Dark Side under such circumstances?"

"We've been over this, Qui-Gon…"

"Imprison her, I can understand. Re-educate her. Kill her, though? That I can't agree with."

"She's killed thousands because she was 'not guided' properly. At this point, she has already fallen, there is no turning back for her. What else can we do?"

"I don't believe that."

"I'm not going over this with you again, Qui."

"It makes no sense to me that one could go from Light to Dark, and not the other way around. That suggests that there is something more flawed about the Light Side, that those who go to the Dark never want to come back."

"Qui, we are not talking about this now."

"Well when are we going to talk about this?"

"Never, because you will never change your mind, and neither will anyone else."

Qui-Gon sighed.

"So what, we hunt her down like an animal?"

Mace did not reply instantly. "We do what needs to be done. If somehow, she is willing to talk instead of fight, then so be it, but I really doubt our powers of negotiation could convince her to allow herself to be arrested without complaint. The Dark Side does not exactly favor order, you know, and the Jedi Order is, well, orderly. Servathi is use to being on her own, making up her own rules and then breaking them. She would take to being imprisoned about as kindly as any wild animal would."

It was as much of a concession as Qui-Gon could wring out of the dark-skinned Jedi, so he let it drop.

"She doesn't discriminate between who is attacked," Mace pressed a button to open a new file, "But she does seem to prefer Force-sensitives."

"That makes us perfect bait."

"Only individually, as far as I can tell," Mace went on, "She doesn't kill more than one Force-sensitive at a time. Single individuals, on their own. The planet has enough Force-sensitives that many of them could meet each other. That's a good mode of operation for us."

Qui-Gon looked up with a perfectly neutral expression.

"So," He stated, "Who gets to rescue the other?"

* * *

It figured that Qui-Gon was a bit too audacious for his own good. After a die toss where both tried to cheat, the Force favored Mace, so he found himself wandering around the marketplace trying to appear conspicuous and weak—it did not seem like Servathi chose her victims based on physique, but it could not hurt, and as talented as Qui-Gon was at appearing large and imposing, he was also good at appearing clumsy and stupid.

They should be focused on the mission, especially Qui-Gon who was bait, but waiting around with one's senses alert could be boring.

"See," Mace's voice was soft but clear through the transmitter in his ear, "If you had a padawan, you wouldn't be able to take this mission unless you're certain he's ready for it. Of course, if you had a padawan you could throw him out there as bait and the rogues would swarm to him like flies to fresh meat."

Qui-Gon did not need to pretend to stumble at this. "I'm starting to question your teaching methods," He murmured under his breath, the sound easily transferring through bone into his ear where the speakers were. He was not afraid to mutter—on the outside it would look as if he were grunting, which fit the clumsy oaf facade.

"Are you so eager to give up your freedom?" Mace ignored his remark, "You already trained two very fine knights. Feemor is training his own padawan, and Authsola is completing missions at a pace you wouldn't believe."

Authsola had been away before they left, but Feemor, Qui-Gon's first apprentice, had been back at the temple with his padawan before Qui-Gon and Mace departed for their mission. It was a touching sight to see his former apprentice standing with his own child at his side. When Feemor had been a padawan, he was quiet like most Jedi children, very studious and hard-working, and though as a knight he grew more confident as a Jedi of equal status with most of the Order, his own padawan's demeanor was the exact replica of Feemor's as a child. Qui-Gon found the two of them absolutely precious, and had thought that this was probably what most fathers felt when they see their children and grandchildren.

Master Jinn! So I heard that you invited a fish to chew on your lightsaber?

"Insolent brat," Qui-Gon muttered, "Who told him about the fish?"

"Who didn't?" Mace snorted. "Everyone was waiting for the moment he came back to tell him all about how smooth your moves were back there. He was absolutely delighted that the great Qui-Gon Jinn was outwitted by a lightsaber-eating fish."

Qui-Gon knew as much. He was also very amused that Qui-Gon woke Yoda in the middle of the night to ask for a new padawan. I thought you weren't going to take another one after Authsola?

"But even Feemor and Authsola were strong in the Living Force, Qui-Gon. I don't really know what you're thinking, but this is like trying to teach a twi'lek to be a rodian, or teaching Yoda how to be tall. You can work with such people, but you can't teach them."

"I'll figure something out." To an extent, every mentor could only teach so much, and it was up to the students to figure out for themselves. Far more precious than skills at the lightsaber or other Force tricks was a person's mental and emotional integrity. The more Qui-Gon thought about it, the less suitable another master seemed. Obi-Wan may not be the Chosen One, but he was special enough to warrant his own method of training, and Qui-Gon had always been willing to try new things.

Before he could elaborate on the thought, or Mace could reply with his own opinions on the matter, Qui-Gon sensed someone's attention focus on him. Had he been less experienced, he would have ignored it, pretending he did not notice, but the Force-sensitive serial killer was hunting those like her, and ignoring her would prove him to be unworthy prey. Qui-Gon glanced around, morphing his face to look confused. He even allowed himself to stretch his senses out to help him, though not too much.

There, a shadow.

Qui-Gon looked a little longer to give the impression that he did not find what he was looking for. By then the attention was off him. He lumbered on as if the matter was dropped.

"You find her?" He muttered.

"No," Mace replied, "I know the general area but I didn't actually see her. I didn't want to alert her to my presence."

That was good in its own way.

"Be careful, Qui."

Qui-Gon grunted at this. Servathi was a twi'lek, a daughter of a prostitute who, like many of her brethren, joined her mother in the brothels. There was no data on what drugs she used, but it was generally known that such people dealt in the markets as both customers and dealers. Servathi was Force-sensitive, which meant she put a different twist on her work, persuading customers to part with more money than usual, and dealers to part with drugs for less, sometimes even no payment at all. Two years ago she snapped and left the business to kill other Force-sensitives along with whoever happened to be in her way. Like most who turned to the Dark Side, she enjoyed killing for the slaughter, though given the circumstances, Qui-Gon was willing to bet that even a non-Force-sensitive would enjoy killing for slaughter. This sort of case would not warrant two Jedi Masters, however, if she had not crossed paths with some rogue Jedi, who disastrously decided to take her under his or her wing—no one was sure who her master was. As a result, the planet now had to contend with a lightsaber-wielding ex-prostitute intent on murder, who was alarmingly skilled in the Force. The previous knight who faced her did not return.

Servathi was no minor foe.

"Keep close Mace."

"I have you in my sights."

Qui-Gon ducked out of the street.

* * *

It was nighttime before Servathi made her strike, more than a week since Mace and Qui-Gon landed on the planet. She was Rutian, which Qui-Gon found interesting—the blue skin color was rare among twi'leks. She wore a revealing outfit like most twi'lek females and approached him like a shadow.

"Well well," Said she in a sultry voice, as she walked with loose hips and a long stride, "What have we here? Someone looks rather…lonely."

She was choosing seduction, which was hardly surprising. Supposedly, Servathi used different methods on women and children. Qui-Gon appraised her, looking for clues under the pretense of examining her value. She was thin, which made her look nimble. He did not see her lightsaber, even if he knew it was there.

"Who are you?" He asked, because it would be something an oaf would say.

"I am Servathi," Said she with a coy smile, and under the cover of darkness, he almost missed her eyes gleaming with manic glee. "As it happens, darling, I'm a little lonely too." She approached him further, and he let her because the Force was guiding his hand toward her lightsaber—

Skin-on-skin contact made his vision flash. Servathi had not expected someone would grab for her breasts upon meeting her, which was why her lightsaber was tucked in her bra. Qui-Gon was as much a man as any other, but the flesh under his hand was not what caused his sight to burst. The Force pulsed, and he leaped back with her lightsaber in hand. She hissed, jumping back as well, diving into a crouch.

Qui-Gon activated her lightsaber instantly, wondering what just happened between them. She turned and ran, but Mace was ready for her, his own purple lightsaber illuminating the darkness.

"Stand down, Servathi," He ordered, "Come with us quietly and we won't hurt you."

She pulled her blaster and shot. Mace deflected the bolt easily, and she dodged before it could hit her arm. She created a Force whirlwind that both Qui-Gon and Mace had to dodge, and when they recovered she was leaping high onto the buildings.

"After her!" Mace called to him.

Even without her lightsaber and outnumbered, Servathi was difficult to take down. They chased her over the rooftops where they engaged her frequently to no avail. At long last, high above ground, where even the highest skyway was many feet below, they trapped her against the edge of the roof.

"Servathi," Qui-Gon called, "We don't want to hurt you. Come with us peacefully. It doesn't have to end this way."

Servathi's face contorted. "Never!" She hissed, "I will die before I ever join the Jedi! Murderers! Hypocrites! Thieves! Demons!" Her wild eyes glared into his, "Poor Obi-Wan! We want him, we do! Like clouds eat the stars! I go, and I'll claim him yet!"

She whirled around and before either Jedi could stop her, she dove out and fell. The two Jedi raced to the edge, but they could not see her falling body due to the thick traffic of the skyways.

"Sith," Mace cursed.

"Let's go down," Qui-Gon moved back.

* * *

"How are we to explain this to the Council?" Qui-Gon asked.

They had searched the entire block, and all the buildings around it, but there was no sign of Servathi. It was possible that the fall had torn her body to pieces and some flying vessel had somehow carried it off, but it was disturbing that they found no hint of it at all. The Jedi was not talking about that though.

"She probably plucked it from your mind," Said Mace, "Such a trick is not unheard of, though very…worrisome, given that you are a master. You have been thinking a lot about the initiate and perhaps it was a momentary slip? Perhaps she saw it in the Force? She probably just said that to unnerve us. Or…" He hesitated, "Maybe she is just crazy."

"She did suddenly use plural." We want him, we do! "As far as we know, she is a loner, correct?"

"Yes."

There was still the matter of no body, however. At this point, the planet officials had finally stepped in to help the Jedi look around.

"Do you think she is dead?" Mace asked.

"No. But I would not know where to look."

And both Jedi had other matters to see to, other missions to go on. They could not wait indefinitely on the planet for her to show herself.

"This is a lousy ending to the mission," The dark-skinned Jedi complained. "This isn't even an ending to a mission. We should have just killed her instead of talk—now she is probably finding new haunts if she is alive, and we are no longer certain of anything."

"At least this was an improvement from the first attempt," Qui-Gon pointed out solemnly.

* * *

The Temple was a welcome sight, especially as this time, Qui-Gon had come home during the day instead of at some odd hour in the night. Sifo-Dyas, a close friend of Qui-Gon's master, Dooku, patted him on the shoulder when he admitted the fruitlessness of the mission. Sifo-Dyas was friendly enough with Qui-Gon, but did not usually go out of his way to accost him, so the younger man was surprised to find the elder master waiting for him in the temple.

"I sensed a disturbance in the Force," Said the elder man. "It had something to do with you and Windu, I believe. Did something unusual happen on the mission?"

Sifo-Dyas, Qui-Gon thought with some chagrin, had the gift of pre-cognition. Fortunately, the elder master was not so interested in claiming a padawan, but he might be interested in dissuading Qui-Gon from claiming Obi-Wan by articulating a series of unpromising futures. Qui-Gon was not really in the mood for this, but Sifo-Dyas was his senior, and refusing to listen would be disrespectful.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi?" Sifo-Dyas smiled a little after Qui-Gon explained everything. Despite being Dooku's age, his hair was still mostly black and he looked as young as Qui-Gon, if not younger. "The little one everyone is astir about? It figures, really."

He did not explain what figured.

"You know Dooku's first padawan, Komari Vosa?"

Qui-Gon could see where this was going.

"With all due respect, I do not think Vosa's temper was the cause of her downfall. She was distinctly…ruthless."

"It starts somewhere, but I do not bring her up for reasons you are probably thinking of. You were fairly careful with your former two padawans, both of them had excellent temperaments that were suitable for a traditional Jedi Knight. I know your selection had to do with what ultimately happened with Vosa, and your choices were not the only ones so impacted. You must understand, your interest is…puzzling."

Qui-Gon rubbed his head. "With all due respect, I have to inquire why you are interested in this."

"You are my best friend's padawan," Sifo-Dyas replied readily, "And his favorite. He is the proudest of you, and he is not here to talk to you. He asked me to speak with you in his stead."

Qui-Gon rubbed his mouth. "How did Master Dooku even know?" Dooku had been away from Coruscant for almost two years, on an extended mission near the Outer Rim. Someone had to have contacted him about this. Qui-Gon did not realize this business with Obi-Wan warranted such concern.

"He inquired about you when he reported in to the Council, a few days after you and Master Windu departed. Master Yoda told him, presumably. I think he's a bit annoyed at how…infatuated you were." Sifo-Dyas folded his arms.

"I am not infatuated with Obi-Wan Kenobi." Qui-Gon made a face. With the mention of Komari Vosa, the term held an ugly and highly inappropriate meaning. "I have meditated on this, and—"

"And?"

Qui-Gon paused. "It's not about training him as a Jedi. Not really. If you truly want to understand, Master Sifo-Dyas, you have to meditate with the boy. The Force is especially protective of him as he is. There are parts of him that another Jedi master would whittle out of him."

"Then perhaps he is not fit to be trained as a Jedi."

"Or perhaps he is not fit to be trained as a traditional Jedi."

Sifo-Dyas frowned a little in thought. "Interesting."

Qui-Gon made to walk away without further comment, because he had just returned from an unsatisfactory mission and was really not in the mood to keep debating this matter, but Sifo-Dyas' next comment stopped him.

"He's going to draw a lot of attention, your young one."

Qui-Gon turned around. "What?"

"Your padawan," Sifo-Dyas smiled a little, but it was not an entirely happy smile, "He will draw a lot of attention. Not all of them of this side of the Force, even. I can't tell exactly what might happen, but I do know that your Obi-Wan Kenobi is special. If you train him, he will do great things, but if you care as much about him as I think you do, you better look after him well."

A thought suddenly occurred to Qui-Gon. "Is he the Chosen One?"

"No," Said Sifo-Dyas, "But he might as well be. Keep him close, Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon swallowed. "I'll do that."

Sifo-Dyas inclined his head. "May the Force be with you, and your little one."

It was not until Sifo-Dyas was long gone when Qui-Gon realized he had effectively been given unofficial permission to train Obi-Wan.

* * *

Obi-Wan had healed enough to attempt walking, something that the child struggled with. When Qui-Gon found him, the boy was stressed and exhausted, having pushed himself to the brink to no apparent success. He was with his friend, Garen Muln, in the salles, and neither youngling noticed the master watching from outside.

"You're still healing," Said Muln, "It's probably normal. Didn't the healers say this is normal?"

"I feel like I forgot how to do it," Obi-Wan was wielding a training saber, and Qui-Gon found himself feeling annoyed that no one instructed Obi-Wan to wait a little before attempting anything in the salles, "I can't do any of them, it's like I forgot."

"You're just used to being really good at this," Said his friend, "Maybe this is the Force's way of telling you to slow down and wait for the rest of us."

"I don't get it," Obi-Wan sounded close to tears, "It's always been so easy for me. I don't get why I can walk and yet I can't seem to do this."

"Maybe you just need more time."

"I'm healed already," And the boy obviously believed it, even though bacta did not work miracles. "Why would I need more time?"

"Don't listen to what Aalto said," The other boy sniffed, "We're still young. You'll be someone's padawan. They'd be dumb not to choose you. It's just some broken legs. There are Jedi with prosthetics."

"They don't forget everything though." Obi-Wan looked dejected. "And all of you have caught the interest of one master or another. The only one who didn't was me."

"We caught the interest, doesn't mean they'd choose us. Master Yoda said that most younglings get chosen when they're ten or older."

Hm. Qui-Gon was not sure how he felt about being forgotten so easily. Then again, after seeing the child three times after rescuing him from the debris, Qui-Gon did disappear without so much as a farewell for nearly two weeks. For nine-year-olds, "catching a master's interest" probably involved a lot less subtlety from the adults as well. Qui-Gon did not go out of his way to announce his intentions to Obi-Wan, and he could forgive the boy for being a little dense.

"What about that big one, Kye-Gone Jing? What was his name? He came the other day and took us out to the gardens with Master Yoda and Master Window."

Master Window. Qui-Gon was ashamed he never thought of that nickname himself. It was such an obvious one…he was using it the first chance he gets…

Obi-Wan proved he was not so dense after all. "I was hoping he liked me, but," He shifted from one foot to the other, "He never said anything in the end, and then he just left. He didn't even come to say hello."

"Masters never do," Muln assured him.

Qui-Gon was about to open the door then, but Obi-Wan chose that moment to attempt to execute a maneuver even twelve-year-olds had problems with. His legs were too slow, as was expected in his condition, and Qui-Gon burst into the room to soften his fall before he could hurt himself.

Obi-Wan was good at lightsaber techniques, and he was also good at falling. His body rotated so that he rolled forward, keeping much of his weight off his legs.

"Ugh!" The boy groaned in frustration.

For a fleeting moment, Qui-Gon felt anger—what was the boy thinking, trying something like that when he was barely healed? But years of practice allowed him to release the anger into the Force without even thinking, and he was kneeling next to the dumbstruck child.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"I—I'm fine," Obi-Wan stuttered, staring at him with wide eyes. "I—I know how to do that. I use to, anyway." He flushed, embarrassed at his performance.

"You can break your legs again with that stunt," Qui-Gon was not amused. "Didn't anyone tell you to keep away from the training salles?"

Both initiates were startled by his presence, so neither one replied.

"I'll have a word with the healers," Qui-Gon rose.

"No—" Obi-Wan grabbed at his trousers from where he was still sitting on the floor, "It—It's not their fault. They told me." He bit his lip, knowing he was in trouble.

Qui-Gon stared down at him, unimpressed. "If you know this already, why are you here?"

"…I was feeling fine…" Obi-Wan was keeping eye-contact, but in the manner of a cornered animal, "And…I wanted to make sure I didn't forget anything."

Qui-Gon frowned at what he was sensing from the Force. "Did someone say you would forget?"

This time Obi-Wan lowered his eyes.

"Who was it? Was it Initiate Chun again?"

"No," Said Muln, "His friend, Aalto. He said that while Obi-Wan was sitting on his butt, the rest of us will catch up, and then he'll never get picked as a padawan.

Qui-Gon frowned even more. "Do you want to break your legs again, Obi-Wan?"

The boy shook his head miserably.

"Is it worth breaking your legs over what someone said, Obi-Wan?"

"He said I wouldn't be a Jedi Knight," Obi-Wan looked up, and there was a flash of solid defiance, "And I want to be a Jedi Knight. I wasn't going to be one by sitting around and sp—sp—spoiling myself like a princess."

Qui-Gon would have laughed if the situation were not so serious. Obi-Wan was too easily manipulated by these bullies. His pride could use some lessening. It was in his files too, but Qui-Gon had not thought much of it until he was faced with this.

Obi-Wan, who had been sitting, suddenly collapsed. He was usually more respectful than that, so Qui-Gon instantly knelt by his side again.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

The boy's eyes were pinched, and a coil of real fear began to twist in his signature.

"Obi!" The other boy ran to his side, "Obi, what's wrong?"

"I don't know," Obi-Wan gasped, "I just feel…feel sick."

Qui-Gon was familiar with this. "You overtaxed yourself, child. Take a moment and breathe." He collected the training lightsaber. "Your bones are still mending, you shouldn't have exerted yourself like this. Much of your body is still devoted to healing." Obi-Wan was still frightened by this turn his body had taken, so he smoothed a hand over the boy's forehead. "Relax."

The boy did at his persuasion, breathing deeply but slower. Qui-Gon waited patiently, as did the other boy. He used the time to consider what to do. Obi-Wan's pride was a matter of concern, but it was complicated—he wanted to do well, and Qui-Gon could hardly criticize that.

After a while, Obi-Wan sat up slowly, abashed and spent. Seeing him so tired filled Qui-Gon with a bizarre urge to hug the child.

"Come, let's get you to the créche," He said, and without further ado he hoisted Obi-Wan up and into his arms. Obi-Wan grabbed onto him immediately, as naturally as a child would his father, but he was dismayed.

"I can walk," The boy insisted.

"I want you off your feet," Qui-Gon easily placated. He turned to the other boy. "Can you open the door for me, please, Initiate Muln?"

"Yes, Master." Muln ran to the door.

Obi-Wan was horrified with his position, but a child was a child and he had exhausted himself for the day. Halfway down the hall, Qui-Gon turned his head and realized the boy had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

Ha! He thought, Little ones and their drama, but at the end of the day they still sleep like babies wherever their heads happen to rest. The thought brought a smile on his face that he could not wipe off even when the Créche Master raised her eyebrows at him.


	5. A Padawan

 

With the approval of Sifo-Dyas, things went smoothly from there, despite the continued protests from everyone else.

Obi-Wan regarded him with open-mouthed wonderment when he informed the youngling about his intentions, before recovering himself and ecstatically promising Qui-Gon that he would be "the best padawan ever". Once that was settled, the two formed a training bond in the Force, the beginnings of which were unsurprisingly already present. With it strengthened and solidified, however, Qui-Gon found his head ringing with the bell-like laughter of the Force nonstop and had to go to Yoda to put an end to the distraction.

"My other padawans weren't nearly this noisy," He said, confused, as Yoda skimmed his clawed fingers over Qui-Gon's head. "Then again, they had calmer dispositions, but this doesn't really make any sense. You could have warned me about this, you know."

"Hm! Know of this, I did not." Yoda withdrew his hands. "Unusual, this is. Going two ways, this bond is—from you to young Kenobi, is one, and from him to you, is another."

"What is he transferring to me?" Qui-Gon asked. He wondered if this was what people felt when they were high on drugs.

"Certain, I am not," Yoda frowned in thought, "Watch what happens, we should."

Obi-Wan's stunts at the salle set his recovery back by days. He gritted his teeth to bear the ache, but through the training bond the boy could hide nothing from his master. Qui-Gon had the boy sit while he helped pack his belongings from the créche. Like all Jedi children, Obi-Wan did not have many possessions.

"What did you do to this datapad?" He asked as he glanced at it. It looked like it had been mutilated by someone that hated it very much. Was it Bruck again?

"Oh," Obi-Wan blushed from where he sat on his bunk, "It was broken. I was taking it apart and I got…curious about how tough the parts were."

Qui-Gon picked it up, and was suddenly struck with a vision. Obi-Wan, probably around seven years old, using various tools to get the parts to bend or break. The vision was over as soon as it started, and he blinked to clear his sight.

Interesting. That was something reminiscent of…the Unifying Force. Through the bond, he could still hear the jingling of bells, a soft chorus of young voices singing. It was softer now though, so Qui-Gon had a hunch it might have to do with the initialization of the bond.

"I can throw it out," Said the boy, "I haven't touched it in years."

He had a very good control over his telekinesis, Qui-Gon thought with approval as the boy used the Force to dump the ruined datapad into the trash. The gleam of metal suddenly reminded him that most padawans already made their first lightsaber by the time they were chosen, but Obi-Wan was just a bit too young for that. He was also a bit young for cooking—most human children began when they were ten years old. Flying was out of the question until the boy is thirteen, as was driving any sort of speeder. Qui-Gon would also not be able to leave Obi-Wan alone overnight until he was a bit older; even if Jedi children were more mature than their civilian counterparts, there were certain boundaries they just could not cross until the right time.

This will be interesting.

Obi-Wan climbed down the ladder. "That's everything," He said, barely masking a wince.

Qui-Gon lifted the boy and hooked him onto one arm before bending down to grab the bag. "Are you ready to see your new home?"

The boy beamed at him. "Yes, Master!"

Initiate Muln entered the room as the master and his new padawan prepared to step out.

"Obi-Wan!" Muln was smiling a little, before looking a little tense, "Are you leaving already?"

"Uh-huh," Obi-Wan chirped. Qui-Gon set him down so he could talk properly to his friend.

"We'll miss you around here," Said Muln, "And you were afraid you weren't getting chosen. Shows Chun what he knows."

"He'll be upset about this," Obi-Wan said. There was a fair bit of pleasure paired with the statement, but Qui-Gon allowed it because it lacked real malice. "Maybe after this he'll stop being such a bastard."

"Language, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon reprimanded without thinking, and was met with startled confusion. Obi-Wan had not realized it was a bad word. He probably overheard some padawan or knight using it and picked it up. Qui-Gon ruffled the boy's head to soften the reproach. "I'm sure Chun is as afraid of not being chosen as you are." The boy certainly should be, given the circumstances. "You're secure now, Obi-Wan, don't rub it in his face."

"I know. That would be mean."

He was a good boy, Qui-Gon thought with a mix of satisfaction and frustration. Temper and impatience was dangerous and all, but they were independent of a person's moral integrity, and Obi-Wan was a compassionate child. For that alone, his flaws should mean little. It made him wonder if other initiates were being released to the Service Corps for lousy reasons. Without another word, he hoisted Obi-Wan up again.

"Say good bye for now," He told his padawan. It felt good to know that this boy was his at last. "You'll see each other again, I promise. You still need to go to class. You better not boast about this, Obi-Wan—you're young for a padawan, but it would make others resentful."

"What's 'resentful'?"

"Annoyed. They'd be annoyed with you."

"No one would be as annoying as Bruck Chun," Muln sniffed.

"Still," Qui-Gon said to Obi-Wan gravely, "No showing off. Understand?" He understood enough about the mentality of children to know this was a danger.

Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes, Master. Bye Garen!"

"Bye Obi! I'll see you later!"

* * *

Qui-Gon's apartment held a collection of things from his past. There was a lace doily made by Authsola when she was seventeen, Feemor's holo-album of photos, Dooku's paperweight, statuette, Feemor's model ships that Qui-Gon never could bring himself to dispose of, and frames of photos taken when his two padawans had been knighted. There were also photos of Qui-Gon himself, with Tahl and Mace as younglings and padawans and then knights, Feemor with a pie in his face, Authsola with friends from Alderaan, Dooku sparring with Qui-Gon.

Admittedly, the rooms were all arranged by Tahl, since Qui-Gon had no interest in interior design, but he found himself glad for her hand in the matter, because it was very satisfying to watch young Obi-Wan look around and stare especially at the images of a young Qui-Gon, no doubt comparing the different versions.

"I'll get to see the other padawans too right?" The boy asked. "Your former padawans?"

"Of course." Feemor was right here in the temple, and Qui-Gon made a mental note to arrange lunch or dinner with him and his padawan. Authsola was still on her mission, but she would adore Obi-Wan—she always did like younglings.

Obi-Wan was especially interested in the pictures of Qui-Gon as a youngling.

"Is that Master Window?"

"Windu, and yes."

"He had hair then."

"Yes he did."

"How'd he lose it?"

"Maybe you can ask him yourself." Should he warn Obi-Wan not to be blunt? Actually, for his own amusement, he wanted to keep silent. He wanted to see how Mace would react.

Obi-Wan was not quite so tactless after all. "I can't just go up to him and ask how he lost his hair."

Qui-Gon smiled. "No."

"You're not going to tell me?"

"You have to figure it out from him. It's his story, not mine." He was teasing the poor child, but at the same time it would be good for the boy to reach out to Jedi masters now. As a padawan, he would be associating with them more. "You want to be polite, but don't worry. He won't bite."

"He's not allowed to be angry; he's a Jedi Master." Was that a wicked gleam in the boy's eye? Watch out, Mace. This one's a clever one.

"How old is Yoda?" Obi-Wan asked as he looked at another picture.

"Old."

"Everyone says that, but he's all white and gray when you were a youngling so he was old then too."

"That's right."

"No one would tell us how old he is, not even the Créche Master."

"I expect it's because no one really knows."

"Is he really thousands of years old?"

"Well, I don't think so. I think he's close to nine hundred, though."

Obi-Wan released an exclamation of awe.

"Doesn't he get tired of teaching us kids all the time?"

Qui-Gon ruffled the boy's head. "It turns out, for people like Yoda, the older they get the more fond of children they are. I don't expect he is tired at all. I think…he enjoys it."

Obi-Wan was very happy about this. "Why does he talk differently from others?"

"Hm?"

"He talks odd. Like, he reverses the order, or something."

Qui-Gon chuckled. "Maybe you can ask Yoda."

"I did," Obi-Wan groused, "He just pretended he didn't know what I was talking about."

That sounded like Yoda. Qui-Gon was impressed that Obi-Wan had the nerve to do this. "Did you do it yourself?"

Obi-Wan squirmed. "It was Bruck Chun. He said I'd be too scared to. I went and did it because I was curious too."

They needed to do something about this Bruck Chun. He was coming up much too often. Someone should have kept the two apart—admittedly the Créche Master had a lot of initiates to keep track of, but this was where individual attention had its advantages.

Dinner was an interesting affair. Either Obi-Wan was like this for all adults, or he trusted Qui-Gon deeply. The training bond hummed pleasantly between them as the child gave him a detailed summary about himself in a style not unlike an oral resumé of his favorite hobbies (flying simulators, lightsaber, building droids and remote-controls for models), virtues that other people mentioned of him (quick learner, quick reader, good at math, good at design) flaws (proud, though Qui-Gon was not sure if he really understood what that meant, impatient, easily angered, bad at drawing and singing, constantly getting into scrapes and a little mischievous, though Obi-Wan had used the term "naughty" and "wicked") his dearest friends and their attributes (Garen Muln was usually his partner-in-crime, Reeft usually ate his leftovers or, if there were none, outright stole from his plate, Bant Eerin was the only girl in his clan and she's shy and quiet and constantly trying to keep Garen from encouraging Obi-Wan to do something stupid). For a nine-year-old, it was pretty impressive, and Qui-Gon had a difficult time keeping from choking on his laughter as he listened.

"What about Bruck Chun?" He asked, since the boy left him out.

Obi-Wan scowled. "He's mean. He's always bugging me and picking on Bant because she's Mon Calamari. They're always calling her ugly, and they call me Oafy-Wan all the time and it's really annoying."

"Them? Who else besides Chun?"

"Aalto. They're always together, and they're always making fun of me and Bant. Garen says it's because he's jealous I'm so much better than him."

"Do you think that is really the case?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I beat him all the time in lightsaber class. On tests I sometimes do and sometimes don't. He gloats all the time if he gets a higher score than me even though I've caught him trying to cheat on me." Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows at the words. It did not sound like Obi-Wan tattled on him, which was interesting. "I don't know. Even when I try to be nice to him, he's mean, and Aalto's bigger than me and constantly tripping me in the halls."

Qui-Gon had enough experience with younglings to know better than to take Obi-Wan's depiction without question, but he also knew the harm that could come from withholding support from his own padawan. Obi-Wan already demonstrated that he did not like imposing on adults, which meant this confidence was a gesture of trust.

"Try to stay away from him," He said to the youngster, "I know it would probably be hard, especially if you share classes, but try to ignore them and stay clear of them. Can you do that?"

"I already do that," Obi-Wan pouted, "But sometimes they come and pick a fight with me on purpose."

"If they accost you," Qui-Gon said seriously, "I want you to tap into our training bond. Will you do that?"

Obi-Wan was silent for a moment.

"If they come up to you at all," Qui-Gon said seriously, "I don't care how small or insignificant—unimportant, the situation seems, even if you think you can handle it on your own, I want you to tap into our training bond and call me. Promise me you'll do that."

Obi-Wan was hesitating, which was bad and good. Bad, because he was clearly unwilling, and good, because he was giving the request the consideration it was due and not just blindly promising the adult without understanding what he was promising to. After a moment, Qui-Gon felt their training bond jerk as the little one pulled experimentally on it.

"Like that," The master said with approval.

"Alright," Obi-Wan acquiesced with bad grace, but despite his frown, he meant it. "I promise, Master."

The little one tugged a bit more on the mental bond. Qui-Gon did not stop him, because it was such an inquisitive gesture. Unlike his master, Obi-Wan had never forged a training bond before, and he should be allowed to explore the new development.

"Master Qui-Gon?"

"Hm?"

"When you made the training bond with others…did the Force giggle like that?"

Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows. "No."

"Oh." Obi-Wan blinked. "Um…did it giggle for you too?"

That's one way of putting it. "Master Yoda and I are looking into it. Do you still hear it?"

"It's softer now," Obi-Wan tugged again on the bond, "And the Force feels…different now." He suddenly began worrying his lip. "We did it correctly, right?"

Qui-Gon allowed himself to laugh at this, despite Obi-Wan's confused look. "Yes, my child, we did it correctly. It's different between different masters and padawans, but we did it correctly."

Tug tug. "Can you pull it too? Would I feel it?"

Qui-Gon smirked and demonstrated. It should be illegal for nine-year-olds to be this cute. Maybe he was biased but Obi-Wan was just too precious. He mentally poked at Obi-Wan, and then tickled him, inspiring a fit of real giggles as Obi-Wan hopped out of his chair in a vain effort to dodge the mental tease. This prompted Qui-Gon to abandon the rest of his dinner and tickle the boy for real.

"I'll be good! Stop! Haha!" The boy gasped, and Qui-Gon relented, returning to his seat. Obi-Wan was more sheepish, face bright red but bearing a toothy grin. He could not finish his dinner, though, because he started hiccuping from laughing too much.

"Ah," Qui-Gon apologized, "I forgot. I'm sorry, little one."

"Hic!"

"Drink some water."

Drinking water never works, but for some reason everyone has to try it. Obi-Wan's fit died down soon enough, though, and the boy helped him stack the dishes into the sink. Washing them was a little awkward because the counter was a bit high, but the boy made a valiant effort and soon the chore was done.

"There's one more thing we need to do," Qui-Gon told the boy, "Before you are truly my padawan."

Obi-Wan blinked in question.

He had the child sit on the couch before Qui-Gon used a razor to slice off a lock of his own hair. Obi-Wan sat still and solemnly as his master carefully wove the strands into the beginnings of a braid. The colors clashed a little, but it did signify that Obi-Wan was his apprentice.

"All done, Padawan Kenobi," He announced once he finished. "Try not to mess it up. I don't have that much hair on my head." Feemor and Authsola had constantly unraveled their braids during training and other activities; it was a quirk of childhood Qui-Gon had to deal with as a padawan himself.

"I'll be careful." The boy was still in awe, running a finger over the strands lightly.

Jedi were not the most affectionate, but Qui-Gon allowed himself to move and hug the boy. Obi-Wan clung back.

"Work hard, little one," He said to him.

"I will, Master."

* * *

That night, Qui-Gon dreamed.

The issue with their conflicting talents had not gone away simply because he had willed it so, but the Force seemed to have its own ideas on how to solve the problem, as it always did. The visions he faced were a bit nauseating, spinning in and out too fast and filled with color too bright for the mind to process. Most of the images were metaphors, he knew, things that could be but were not set in stone, not meant to really be understood. Qui-Gon was getting a bit of insight as to why most people did not like the Unifying Force. It was truly convoluted, and encouraged more doubt than certainty, more anxiety than comfort.

At the center of it all, however, Obi-Wan was a steady presence, and Qui-Gon hooked onto him to anchor himself. The boy seemed unaware of the mayhem around him, and even a bit oblivious of Qui-Gon, leaving the Jedi Master to observe this aspect of the Force by himself.

Once he made contact with the child, however, the turmoil slowed so that coherent sequences formed. Obi-Wan continued with his own business, whatever it was—Qui-Gon was not sure what the boy was dreaming about, but around them he saw the Temple lobby, stretching out in all directions, Jedi calmly walking about and Sifo-Dyas talking with his former master. There was something alarmingly shadowed about Dooku, though Sifo-Dyas did not seem to realize this. Was it illness? Dooku did not look well, he did look a bit sickly. "You should request some time, my friend," Sifo-Dyas said to him, "Men like us have to slow down a little, allow the young ones to do the legwork. There comes a time when warriors must sit down and simply offer what advice they can."

The vision broke to follow Servathi, the blue-skinned twi'lek killing a man in the cockpit of a ship with one stroke of her lightsaber. So she's alive, Qui-Gon thought, and still on a murdering spree. It could be a vision from the past, but somehow it did not feel like it. On the screens he saw her enter the coordinates for Coruscant, before pulling the ship into hyperspace.

As they went, the vision blurred, and he saw a tall young man with fair skin and dark hair. He was clad in rich robes and a ring gleamed from every finger. He was standing at a large banquet where all the guests were dressed as lavishly as he was. His perspective pulled back and he saw a planet that was a mix of green and gold, which was not helpful for identifying it at all.

The images jerked, and Qui-Gon saw Dooku standing in front of little Obi-Wan. The shadow around his former master was more pronounced now, and Obi-Wan was visibly scared. He said something vaguely respectful to the older Jedi and seemed to look for a way to escape. Dooku raised a hand and suddenly stroked boy's cheek, the gesture outwardly affectionate, but tinged with a thoroughly evil intent.

"My former padawan chose well this time." Dooku murmured. "Train well, young padawan. I will be watching your progress."

Qui-Gon's broke from his dreams with a gasp. His heart thundered in his chest, and it took a few breaths to bring it down to a more sedate pace. He checked through the training bond to the young one next door. Obi-Wan had woken, but the youngster had no idea why. He waited for a moment, but the boy, perceiving no reason for alarm, promptly went back to sleep.

For the master's part, it was a long time before he could shut his eyes again.

* * *

Obi-Wan remained completely oblivious of what transpired during the night. He did not even remember what he was dreaming about, and was a little nonplussed when Qui-Gon pressured him to remember. The Jedi Master ultimately waved the matter away and let the boy go after applying some Force healing to his legs to ease the pain. He had some research to do, so he went to the archives when his little one went to class.

Sifo-Dyas and Yoda were looking over the same holoscreen when he arrived, and as he began to walk past, Tahl brushed by and tapped him on the shoulder.

"This is for you," She told him, as she joined the other two. "Here," She announced, "I found a case that looks promising." She slipped the drive into the computer.

"Takkut and Amel," Sifo-Dyas read aloud without looking at Qui-Gon, though it was obvious both he and Yoda were aware he had joined them, " But these two aren't master and padawan."

"They're very compatible partners. Takkut was Amel's master's good friend, until his friend died on a mission shortly after Amel's trials."

"The two were paired for Amel's initial missions as a knight," Qui-Gon skimmed the passages, "They proved to work together very well and the Council made them a semi-permanent team."

"Like the case with Jinn and Kenobi, this is," Yoda observed, "Strong in the Unifying Force, Takkut was, while trained in the Living Force, Amel was."

"They formed a bond. Nothing about the Force clanging through it, though."

"Still ringing, is it?" Yoda asked.

Qui-Gon paused. "It's softer now. There was a new development though. I'm not very strong with visions—I never really was, but yesterday was the first night Obi-Wan and I were paired, and I think I stole his dreams somehow."

"Explain this, you should," Yoda stated, leaning on his walking stick.

Sifo-Dyas expressed more incredulity than either of the other two masters when Qui-Gon finished.

"This doesn't make any sense. What purpose could stealing a person's visions serve? If Master Jinn sees all of the visions at Initiate—ah, I mean, Padawan Kenobi's expense," And Qui-Gon suppressed the warm feeling of satisfaction at the correction, "Then Kenobi would not be able to learn how to decipher them on his own."

"Saw nothing of these, Kenobi did?" Yoda inquired.

"I don't think he's aware of what happened at all." Qui-Gon paused. "Granted, most of the images would have been confusing for him. He does not recognize Master Sifo-Dyas, nor has he ever met Master Dooku, or Servathi. There was one man there that I did not recognize, but he could not have recognized him either."

Tahl patted his shoulders. "I'm going to look some more. If there's Takkut and Amel, there ought to be other examples." She left the three men alone.

"After Amel's master died," Sifo-Dyas stated, "This file states that he had problems with nightmares. Upon first pairing him with Takkut—oh her. Amel was female—Takkut stole her nightmares, much like Master Jinn did with Kenobi. On occasion Amel would also steal Takkut's visions. The healer here theorized that when Takkut was unable to handle the visions or properly respond to them, Amel got them instead. Every time Amel received a vision, Takkut had no idea what they were, and the people she recognized, the planets, the landscapes, he would not."

"Hm," Yoda and Qui-Gon remarked at the same time.

"This is assuming the visions were, in fact, premonitions of a sort," Sifo-Dyas turned to look at Qui-Gon, "I know Dooku. He is a proud man, but his pride is also what protects him from the Dark Side. I don't understand this shadow you are talking about. It could be that he was physically ill…in which case, we should recall him to the temple."

The idea of Dooku in the same temple as his little one filled Qui-Gon with more unease than it should, and he wondered at it. A single vision should not have changed his view of Dooku so much. The man had been his master, and Qui-Gon knew him enough to voice the same skepticism as Sifo-Dyas, but something tugged at his heart and he found himself hoping with all his might for Yoda to refuse.

The old Jedi shook his head. "Not yet."

Good enough.

"Visions for those like Obi-Wan Kenobi tend to involve a lot of metaphors," Sifo-Dyas then pointed out, "It could be that the Force is using Dooku to represent something else, or someone else. Usually, the visions themselves are misleading, but they compel their viewer to respond in a certain way. They're meant to guide us on the right path, not necessarily to be taken literally."

"Look more, we should," Yoda recommended.

* * *

"It figures that the Sith would come up with something like this," Said Mace during lunch, "They're less about helping out their apprentices and more about using them."

"What exactly is the issue again?" Kit Fisto asked as he slid his tray next to theirs.

"Qui took a padawan strong in the Unifying Force," Tahl said with her mouth full. "Qui is strong in the Living Force. Cue issues."

"Qui-Gon is stealing visions from his padawan," Said Ki-Adi Mundi.

"Didn't this start off with something about a giggling Force?" Mace asked. "First the Force dances and now it giggles around you. For crying out loud, Qui, what's with you and making the Force completely undignified?"

"The Force has calmed down," Qui-Gon said dryly, "It's no longer giggling, though there's still a very upbeat rhythm to it."

"Right."

"What does this have to do with the Sith?" Shaak Ti asked.

"The Sith are not altruistic," Said Ki-Adi, "If the Master is strong in the Living Force, he wouldn't care if he can't teach an apprentice who is strong in the Unifying Force, as long as the apprenticeship serves him."

"The Force giggles around the Sith? I'm not even sure if I understand what you mean by the Force 'giggling'. It doesn't exactly have an audible voice."

"It was giggling." Qui-Gon sipped some water. Obi-Wan's description had been simple and yet accurate. "There's no other term for it. Laughing, maybe. Bubbling laughter. You have to experience it to believe it, I suppose."

"Well the Force was laughing around the Sith, from the apprentice's notes," Said Mace, "Though I imagine, given that the Sith don't giggle, it was probably just cackling a lot. And we can probably replace the 'upbeat rhythm' with one that's full of rage and hate."

"Charming."

"How droll."

"The notes stopped mentioning it after a few days," Mace went on, "And we also don't really have the whole file—much of it was corrupted. It did mention a vision-stealing thing, though in this particular case, it's the other way around—the apprentice was stealing visions from the master."

"Well, that wouldn't be good."

"They're both dead," Tahl swallowed another mouthful, "Which is good for the galaxy but not entirely promising for Qui and his little one."

"Lucky for me and my little one, we're not Sith!"

The other masters uttered sarcastic exclamations of surprise at this as the doors to the dining hall opened and the initiates came in. Obi-Wan was surrounded by his three friends and engrossed in chatter, and for a moment he looked like any other calm, solemn initiate save for the telling padawan braid. He did not expect his master there, and so did not look around, so Qui-Gon gave their bond a light tug to get his attention.

Obi-Wan turned and would have waved if his hands were not full of his lunch tray. Instead, he aimed a brilliant smile at Qui-Gon, genuinely happy to see him. "Hi Master!"

It probably was not the wisest move to get the youngling's attention, as much of the dining hall turned around at the bright call, but Qui-Gon raised his hand and smiled back and Obi-Wan turned his attention back to his friends without noticing the stir he caused.

"As I said," Said Tahl, "Hopeless. Is it just me, or is Qui being ridiculous this time around? He wasn't like this with his other two padawans."

"It's not just you," Said Shaak Ti.

"Master Yoda needs to work a little more on his demeanor," Ki-Adi remarked.

Qui-Gon, a little irritated, replied, "I like him the way he is. He can certainly improve on certain things, but in general, I think he is just fine."

"Lay off Qui's cub," Said Mace, "You're stirring his mother-bear instincts."

Qui-Gon scowled at him. He finished his lunch just as Sifo-Dyas suddenly entered. He scanned the room and headed straight for Obi-Wan.

"What's going on?" Tahl noticed this too. Sifo-Dyas was something of a living legend. His interest in a youngling would cause a bigger stir than Qui-Gon could ever manage.

"I don't know." He watched Sifo-Dyas sit down next to Obi-Wan. The four younglings were noticeably unsettled by his attention, and Obi-Wan nervously tugged on the training bond for reassurance. Qui-Gon sent a gentle wave of affection, but he watched the scene with a critical eye. It reminded him too much of the vision, of Dooku's remark to Obi-Wan and his corresponding caress that sent a wave of unease through Qui-Gon whenever he thought of it. Force knew Dooku had given Qui-Gon loose hugs and the like when they were master and padawan, but something about that touch seemed…filthy.

"What did I tell you?" Mace drank the last of his water, "Mother-bear instincts. Qui, you and Kenobi are already paired. Even Master Sifo-Dyas won't be able to steal him from you."

Qui-Gon ignored him, which made all the masters at the table uneasy.

"Is something wrong, Qui-Gon?" Tahl asked. "Are you sensing something from the bond?"

Qui-Gon was suddenly struck with a vision. It was very disorienting, and his sense of gravity dissipated in its wake, but he saw, clearly, Sifo-Dyas walking down what looked like the streets of slums, Obi-Wan running up to him, Sifo-Dyas kneeling in front of the boy, and then the next morning the child was sprawled on the street, his head cleaved from his body by a cauterizing blade.

He came back to himself with a wave of nausea and regretted eating lunch. Sifo-Dyas was still talking to Obi-Wan.

"Qui-Gon?" Kit Fisto called warily, "Qui-Gon, you've turned grey. Is something wrong?"

Don't do anything rash. Sifo-Dyas was hardly going to attack Obi-Wan in the dining hall in full view of everyone. Qui-Gon was not even sure if Sifo-Dyas was the one responsible for—for—he was not going to think of it.

"I'm fine," He said, his voice sounding weak to his ears.

"You saw something," Shaak Ti guessed. "I've seen that look before. What did you see?"

Obi-Wan had relaxed around Sifo-Dyas, chatting animatedly about whatever the nine-year-old child thought worthy of talking about. There was a soft look in the master's eyes and he listened with rapt attention to the youngster, while of the others, only Muln was brave enough to interject with a comment or two. The Force was quiet for now—there was no threat here, but the vision had Qui-Gon shaken.

"Qui-Gon," Tahl was saying, "If you move over there you'll scare the younglings."

"I'm fine," He said. He would stay here; there was no danger right now, not to his little one or anyone else. Still, he kept his eyes on the table as the elder master talked gently with his enthusiastic padawan, and did not let his attention waver until Sifo-Dyas finally left Obi-Wan with a look of acknowledgment at Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan was innocently oblivious of the drama yet again, and returned happily to his meal and his friends. Qui-Gon did not know whether to be more annoyed or amused.


	6. Guardian Instincts

 

Obi-Wan came home to their apartment full of good cheer, eagerly telling Qui-Gon about his day and earnestly assuring him that he did not show off. Much.

"They asked," Said his little one, "Because of the braid, but I tried not to talk about it too much. They were cu—curious what it's like to have a master, so I just told them as much as they wanted to listen."

Qui-Gon gave the approval the young one sought for. Depa Billaba, Mace's former padawan and current Jedi Master on the Council, was sitting with Plo Kloon, who was fiddling with his anti-oxygen mask. Obi-Wan blanched when he realized they had company and stammered a greeting to both of them.

"Hello, Padawan Kenobi," Depa inclined her head. Plo might have said the same but his mask was still put on wrong and his response ended up sounding like gibberish.

"How are your legs?" Qui-Gon asked.

"They're alright," Obi-Wan insisted, but he had not learned how to mask his side of the bond, and Qui-Gon would have known they were hurting badly even without the bond, because the boy had wanted to sit down as soon as he entered the apartment.

"Come here," Qui-Gon directed the young one to sit, and smoothed his hands over the boy's legs, applying a stream of healing. Obi-Wan sighed loudly in relief. "Better?"

Obi-Wan nodded, suddenly looking tired. Qui-Gon hoisted him up and carried him to his room.

"Why don't you get started on your homework," He set the boy down, "Try to keep off your legs, alright?"

"Yes, Master."

Depa was smiling when he came out and joined them again. Plo had finally righted his mask.

"You have a very strong connection with your padawan," She said as Qui-Gon sat down across from them, "I can see why Master Windu claimed the Force could giggle."

Depa had a strong sensitivity in regards to such things. "You can hear it?" He asked. The bubbling had died down considerably enough that Qui-Gon himself barely noticed it anymore.

"Faintly," Depa inclined her head, still smiling, "Yours was a match made in the Force. I think you two will do great things together."

It was an idle comment from her, but it echoed Sifo-Dyas' less idle comment before. Qui-Gon found himself frowning. The visions nagged at him, and he knew he was falling into the trap most Jedi did of sticking their noses into the future and forgetting the present, but he was truly uneasy, and it was not just his mind that was twisting with dread.

He looked toward the boy's room. "I have no experience with visions prior to this," He said to the two of them, "I fear I cannot make wise decisions about them. If they had been focused on me, I would have taken this as a learning experience, but I loathe to put Obi-Wan in danger." Sifo-Dyas would be the person to ask, considering the esteemed Master had taken an interest in Obi-Wan, but the vision haunted Qui-Gon and he found himself reluctant to trust anyone with the child, even Yoda.

The visions are making me paranoid.

It was an unpleasant feeling. Before Obi-Wan, the Jedi were friends, family. Despite the fact that Obi-Wan had lived for years within the same halls, all of the sudden everyone appeared to be a liability, even a threat. Depa was highly respected in the Order, Sifo-Dyas was even more so, and yet Qui-Gon's instincts were all but painting them as enemies. Even his own master Dooku, whom Qui-Gon would have trusted his life to, seemed dangerous to his little one. It was confusing, how the apprehension and dread mingled with the joyful rhythm still pulsing through the bond, as if the Force were both satisfied and fearful.

"The Order rarely witnessed such pairings as yours," Plo said to him, "Whenever a master chooses a padawan, both sides have to acclimate. It could be that you and your padawan simply have more acclimating to do."

It made some bit of sense. Qui-Gon certainly did not have any better ideas.

"May I talk with him?" Depa asked.

Qui-Gon paused, noting that Sifo-Dyas never gave the courtesy of asking first. Then again, the master probably was use to having his way with everything now.

"This bond has you rattled," She noted when he did not answer immediately.

"I'm sorry," Qui-Gon shook his head, "I guess I am a bit distracted. Perhaps we do need more time to get use to our new roles in each other's lives. Of course you may talk with Obi-Wan."

"Thank you, Master Jinn." Depa inclined her head and rose gracefully from her chair.

Qui-Gon found himself staring after her as she disappeared into the boy's room.

"Mace was right," Plo observed, "You have gotten more…protective."

Qui-Gon started, and shook his head again. "I don't know what has gotten into me."

"What did you see during lunch? Everyone was worried about you."

Qui-Gon rubbed the back of his head in distress. He had attempted to meditate on the matter, but the Force had adamantly shown him the same few images, over and over and over again, until he was too sick to attempt again. "I saw Obi-Wan d—die…because of Master Sifo-Dyas." He hastily amended, "I'm not sure if it was his fault, but it was related to him, at any rate."

"Can you tell me what you saw?"

Plo was not strong in the Unifying Force, but he still knew more than Qui-Gon.

"Yes," The other Jedi murmured once he reluctantly described the vision, "That would disturb one, that's for certain. Your little one was unaware of this?"

"I think so. He was chatting happily with Master Sifo-Dyas."

"Hm. Well, the temporary solution seems obvious. Your vision took place in some sort of slum. I would say, keep Kenobi at the temple, which is easy enough given his age, and in the meantime you can look a little more through the archives and see if there are any accounts from Jedi—or Sith, that would allow you to understand the situation better. Kenobi is too young to go on missions yet, and the Council can't in good conscience send you on any extended ones when you can't bring your padawan. There is time to settle down and make sense of things."

That was good advice, because Qui-Gon could not very well ostracize every member of the Order over some misplaced paranoia. He gave a brisk nod. There was nothing more that could be done, anyhow.

Conversation in the room died, and Qui-Gon felt a peculiar sensation trickle along the training bond. Was his young one…meditating? He rose and went to the room to peer in. Depa was in a trance, as was Obi-Wan. As if on cue, Qui-Gon sensed her mental presence floating next to his padawan's. Obi-Wan was calm.

"I think she's studying his end," Plo said from over his shoulder. "She'll be along momentarily."

* * *

"I think I'll have to indulge in a bit of envy, Master Jinn," Depa told him when she was done, smiling in fond amusement, "Your padawan is a peculiar youngling. I don't believe I've seen the like. He's strong in the Force, though not absurdly so, but the Force favors him. I think I know what is happening, though I would recommend you do a little research to confirm."

"Oh?"

Depa's expression smoothed into a graver one. "The light that you experienced when you meditated with him, and when you…formed the training bond, was not strictly Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan is not so immersed in the light. Like any living sentient, he has elements of both sides, especially as he is strong in the Unifying Force. As a Jedi, he is aligned more to the light, but no one is strictly Light Side. That purity was the Force, cocooning him. Something about your padawan attracts dark elements—it is not his nature, but something about his presence, though this does not mean he is more liable to fall. Rather, all Dark beings yearn somewhat for the light, and he is like a beacon to the Dark Side of the Force. In response, the Light Side wraps and shields him. This is unusual, because the Force does not usually target individuals this way."

Qui-Gon could only blink speechlessly at her.

"Your padawan is special to the Force," She went on, "That is why it is so active around him, and that is why he is active in response. As for the connection formed between the two of you, it is your duty to protect him, and the Force has given you the role of his guardian and protector. The child is not old enough nor mature enough to understand all the visions he could view through his connection to the Force, but you are, which is why the visions are being transferred to you. Kenobi is not just targeted by the dark elements of the physical world, but also of the spiritual world. Until he is old enough, you will have to protect him from the physical world, because he will be waging a constant battle against the spiritual world on his own."

"Why would the dark elements target Obi-Wan? They don't target every child this way, and Obi-Wan is not the Chosen One." He might as well be, Sifo-Dyas said, and Qui-Gon's heart raced at the memory.

"The answer I received from the Force," Depa said slowly, "And this will sound strange, but there seems to be a name for it. Darsen Ava, or something. Hopefully the archives have something that could provide more clues. I have done all I can."

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Obi-Wan went to classes and spread cheer and young energy wherever he went, while Qui-Gon kept a tight rein over his instincts and refrained from lashing out at any adult who dared to speak to the youngster. He spent some time meditating, but the Force was in a mayhem as well, and when he was not meditating he spent time at the archives looking up darsens and avis and anything resembling what Depa mentioned. Tahl often helped him, and since there were a great many files and records to go through, many of the other masters also helped, though as time went by Qui-Gon wanted to trust everyone less and less.

The only person he had no such instinct against was Feemor, his first padawan. The young man came by to say hello and meet Obi-Wan, acting so much like an older brother that Qui-Gon was deeply moved. Upon seeing Qui-Gon carrying the boy around whenever possible, Feemor began doing the same thing, to the slight annoyance of his own padawan. Obi-Wan's leg bones were all a little tender, as the nerves regenerated much more slowly than the bones, and he was an obedient child who was surprisingly unfussy given his excitable nature. Obi-Wan adored Feemor as much as the man adored him, so sometimes Qui-Gon allowed Feemor to look after his padawan when he wanted to look in the archives.

At length, Feemor and his padawan were dispatched on a mission, leaving Qui-Gon alone with Obi-Wan. At this point, the child could walk fairly well, and even run a little, though Qui-Gon did not allow him to begin training in the salles yet. Obi-Wan, secure with a master and a padawan braid, did not question him, though the boy grew a bit depressed when he was left out of activities with friends. There was nothing for that though; recovery meant sacrifices, both in time and exercise.

"The shamans of the Whills?" He read out loud one day to himself as he clicked through the files in the library. Obi-Wan sat next to him, doing his homework. He was a quiet student, with good focus, Qui-Gon realized. There was a lot about the boy he did not know until he claimed him as his student. "'They told me that the Force is an oscillating entity…cycles between order and chaos, exists in two forms, Living and Unifying. Living is action, Unifying is…potential.' Hm. 'Transitions between light and dark occur through a phenomenon called…Darsant Avat.'"

The name filled him with a profound sense of dread, so much so that he glanced over at Obi-Wan simply to make sure he was really there. The young one continued to scribble on his flimsy, unaware of his master's scrutiny. Qui-Gon inhaled, and restrained himself from giving in to the impulse to touch the boy's shoulder. He looked back at the screens.

'The shaman explained to me that all things in the universe occur in a circular pattern. Planets revolve around suns, stars revolve in the galaxy, and the galaxies themselves also spin in a never-ending spiral. What rises must come down, what falls must rise again—peace gives way to war, and war settles back to peace. The same rule applies to the Force, or perhaps the Force is what drives this pattern, but within the Force is Darsant Avat. It stands for "Plague of Forces", and is a result of the constant battle between Light and Dark for domination. Darsant Avat occurs whenever one side that is dominating the universe is forcefully uprooted by the other. Due to the self-destructive nature of the Dark Side, a transition from chaos to order is usually due to the weakening of the Dark Side itself, and does not fit the criteria of Darsant Avat. Therefore, for our purposes, Darsant Avat is what happens in the spiritual realm when the universe transitions from light to darkness.

'During Darsant Avat, the Force becomes cloudy, and many fates that had been in motion are halted in their tracks. The Dark Side will prey on the Light, and its influence will disrupt the flow of the Light Side. Among Jedi, this will manifest as a sudden faltering of our connection to the Force, clouded visions of the future, and a loss of enlightenment. The Sith will become stronger, their visions truer, and the Jedi will become weaker as a whole. For the rest of the galaxy, there will be civil unrest as the Dark Side persuades and tempts sentients to act on their anger and hate.

'The only way for the Sith to take over the galaxy is through a period of Darsant Avat. The only way to end Darsant Avat is to allow the galaxy to fall into a state of war in order to dispel excess energy and turmoil, after which we must wait for the Sith to burn themselves out before settling the galaxy into peaceful times.

'The shaman warned, however, that Darsant Avat can also target individuals, though it does so rarely. There are certain Force-sensitives that are especially precious to the Light Side of the Force, and also very attractive to the Dark Side of the Force. Should these individuals live during the event of a Darsant Avat, their very souls and Force-signatures are attacked by the Dark Side. He warned me that such an individual will be targeted among our Order, though he did not say whom or when. He did say there were ways to protect this individual. I write to the Council to request a thorough check on all our members, in case one of our own is in such danger.'

Qui-Gon reclined back, feeling oddly calm. His padawan's young presence did much to ground him, or else he would probably be in a state of panic. Darsant Avat. How to defend against it? Assuming, of course, that Obi-Wan was even being targeted.

He would have to try to visit one of these shamans of the Ancient Order of the Whills. They had an extraordinary connection to the Force, which means they would be able to know for sure, and to give him counsel. Still, he sensed no real attack on his little one, and there was no sense in scaring the boy. His instincts told him to wait a bit, and Qui-Gon knew he had to meditate and think about what he learned before making any sort of decision.

We want him, we do! Servathi had said. Plural.

He typed to move the page and see if there was anything else the ancient Jedi had written. He read other observations, including a tactic for keeping one's conscience in the Force, though the shaman refused to teach the author of these notes. Obi-Wan stretched beside him and rubbed his eyes, but did not talk. It was endearing, how quiet the child could be when the situation called for it, and his presence next to Qui-Gon was more of a comfort than he imagined was possible. The little one's end of the training bond glowed happily without being disruptive. It was…soothing.

Feemor had been like that, a little. At the time, Qui-Gon himself had been a relatively young man, and training Feemor had been more like guiding a younger brother. Authsola had been much younger than him, but Qui-Gon had never allowed himself to be too close to her. He had learned his lesson from Komari Vosa, the poor padawan who had fallen in love with Dooku, which led to her ruin. He was fond of Authsola, and taught her as much as he could, took pride in her achievements and was willing to lay down his life for her sake, but he had been strictly a teacher and she a student, and he had been careful not to let her become too comfortable with him.

Perhaps the more one aged, the more precious younglings become. Qui-Gon was no longer young, though among Jedi he was certainly not old, even among humans. Still, children looked different to him now. They were so small, their bodies and minds so new, and there was such hope associated with them. Blank slates each, with a whole life ahead, and up to those like him to guide and lead and protect. Small wonder that Yoda adored children as much as he did. To him, they must all seem more vulnerable, their lives more fleeting. It must be an experience, to be able to witness the life cycles of his students, watch them rise and carve their paths in life, some falling, some succeeding despite all odds, and to witness for himself the impacts their choices had on the galaxy long after they passed into the Force.

Obi-Wan yawned, once again completely oblivious to his master's sentiments. He noticed Qui-Gon staring at him and smiled in confusion.

"What?"

Qui-Gon reached out and tugged his braid. "Just thinking."

"About?"

"What I read."

"Oh." Obi-Wan visibly debated whether he was more curious or tired at the moment. Apparently weariness won. "Can we go back? I'm done."

"Alright. Let me close the files." Qui-Gon paused for a moment, before taking out a drive-chip and inserting it into the computer to download the files.

* * *

"More news, we have, of that twi'lek serial murderess," Mace announced. It turned out Qui-Gon was not the only one who would occasionally pick up Yoda's style of speech. "Blue twi'leks aren't common-place enough for it to be a coincidence is it? On Coruscant, she is, if witnesses are reliable at all."

"You'll have to ask someone else," Qui-Gon said, while Obi-Wan looked up from his project. He was designing some kind of hovering board. According to Obi-Wan, it had been an ongoing project that had yet to work. Qui-Gon was too engrossed in his own research to be too curious about it.

"She already knows your face, Qui."

Qui-Gon loathed to leave Obi-Wan. "It was dark. Just slap on a wig and a beard and she wouldn't know the difference. Plus, we don't know if she's drugged or not at the time." One never knew with folks like her.

"You're letting your attachments get in the way of your duties, Qui-Gon," Mace said disapprovingly. "I'll relent because Master Sifo-Dyas seemed to approve on the matter of your padawan, but this is a serial killer. She has killed many people, and she will kill many people if we don't stop her."

"Yes, but it doesn't have to be me. We all would like to save every world in existence, every person, every sentient, but we have finite resources and we have to prioritize. At the moment, I have a nine-year-old padawan and our bond is doing strange things and possibly messing with my judgment. Do you really want me at your back the way I am?"

Obi-Wan frowned. The boy had experienced none of the commotion Qui-Gon had endured, which was a blessing. He preferred the little one remain oblivious of everything, but Obi-Wan was perceptive in that mysterious way all younglings were. He sent the child a wave of reassurance, though this did little to soothe him.

Mace frowned. "Have you seen the mind healers, Qui?"

Qui-Gon rubbed his face. "I have."

"Have you let your padawan see the mind healers?"

"What for? The boy is completely unaffected."

Mace folded his arms. "This is serious. If you can't function, the Council can deem your partnership disruptive and annul the apprenticeship."

Thank you, Mace, for saying that in front of my padawan. "It's not that I can't function, Mace, there's simply something going on right now that I have to be with Obi-Wan for. You should go back to your Council and remind everyone that on occasion, personal matters should be seen to, and some people are more important than others." Then, because Mace looked like he wanted to launch into another lecture, Qui-Gon went on, "I've had two people mention to me to keep Obi-Wan close. One of them was Master Sifo-Dyas, the other happens to be your former padawan, Master Depa Billaba. I had two sources talk about something that might mean the rise of the Dark Side. One came from the archives and the other happens to be your former padawan, Master Depa Billaba. I have about as much sympathy as you do for people who put themselves ahead of everyone else, but you know me for how many years now, Mace? I've trained how many padawans before Obi-Wan? Do you really think I would let something like attachment get in the way of duty? Really, Mace?"

Mace looked suitably chastened.

"Well at least let us help. You have been very reserved lately, it's like you think all of us are plotting against you. It's not like you to be so paranoid."

"I never thought all of you were plotting against me. What gave you that idea?"

"The fact that you wouldn't let us know what you know. You stopped telling us about your visions. What, did you see every one of us hurt your little one somehow?"

This was not a conversation they should be having in front of his little one. "Obi-Wan, can you give us a moment?"

The child got up nervously, taking his parts. Qui-Gon smiled at him, but the boy was not comforted. He slid reluctantly into his room, sealing the door.

Qui-Gon turned around. "Mace, you and I both know that there are those among us who are dangerous, despite holding the mantle of a Jedi."

"For crying out loud, Qui-Gon, Tahl? Yoda? Really?"

"I'm dealing with the nuances of our bond, just like any other master-padawan pair. It's taking a little longer than usual, but that doesn't mean I don't still have a right to it. The galaxy can afford to wait a little for me as Obi-Wan and I adjust, especially when there are other Jedi Knights around. Send Kit. Send Depa. She mastered your absurd saber form even better than you."

"Qui-Gon…"

"Are we going to have a problem, Mace?" Mace was no longer confrontational, but his veiled threat regarding separating the two of them had crossed the line.

"Qui-Gon, I'm not your enemy," The other Jedi said slowly, "And I'm not your little one's enemy either. By the Force, you are out of it aren't you?" He paused, "I wasn't serious about annulling the apprenticeship, Qui, but are you sure this child is right for you? You're taking longer to adjust, it seems like you're having a harder time of it, and I would think if you two were meant to be, this whole process would be smoother."

"The process was smooth," Qui-Gon looked at his datapads with determination, "The reasons why isn't, that's all."

"And what are the reasons, Qui-Gon?"

"I'm figuring it out."

Mace let out a breath. "Alright. I'll petition the Council to leave you off field-duty. You're no good like this." He stepped back. "I just hope this doesn't set a bad precedent."

Qui-Gon did not reply to this. "Thank you, Mace. I'm sorry for…lashing out on you."

The other Jedi gave him a scrutinizing look, before turning around and leaving.

The child poked his head out moments later, before tip-toeing out quietly.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon smiled at him.

The boy was frowning a little. "Is…" He twisted his hands in front of him, "Is our training bond hurting you, Master?"

Qui-Gon mentally cursed Mace for bringing that up in front of his padawan. He would have preferred it if the boy had just remained blissfully ignorant of the issue. "No," He shook his head firmly, "No, it's not hurting me, Padawan. There's just more adjustment involved between us than is usual." When the boy did not look convinced, he held his arm out to beckon him closer. "The Force is just working your master very hard, but it will be alright. No one will annul us. Mace was just annoyed."

He folded the child into a one-armed hug when the youngling finally came close enough.

"Will that happen?" The child was frightened, "If we take too long?"

A truthful answer would be yes, it could happen, but Qui-Gon knew he was not letting Obi-Wan go no matter how long their adjustment took. "No. Your master is not easily pushed around. On occasion, even Master Yoda backs down when I put my foot down, and I did not choose you with the intention of having others take you away."

The sad fact was that Jedi younglings were not use to having someone look out solely for their good. It was one of many sacrifices they make as Jedi—they lose their parents to gain teachers instead, and with that they lose the love and care and personal attention their real mothers and fathers could have given them. Obi-Wan was not reassured, but he folded himself into Qui-Gon at these words.

"Are you giving up a mission for me, Master?"

The boy was too old to lie to. "Sort of, but it's not important."

"It's a serial killer, right?"

"Yes."

"He'd hurt a lot of people."

Qui-Gon did not bother correcting him. "Don't worry about it, little one."

"I'll be alright till you come back." The words were a bit muffled because Obi-Wan had pressed his face into Qui-Gon's shoulder, but they were still coherent. "The temple's not a dangerous place, and I'm old enough to stay by myself."

The words sounded so innocent that Qui-Gon did not know what to say. He did know that he had to wean Obi-Wan off the potentially lethal belief that everyone in the temple could be trusted just because they were Jedi. "Obi-Wan, the most dangerous of evil can be embodied by Jedi. I don't mean to frighten you, but it is important that you are aware that they walk among us every day and we have no way of telling. Dark Force-users come from our friends, people we grow up in the créche with, went on missions with, trained as padawans, looked up to as masters, and they can fall anytime, anywhere, and target anyone."

Obi-Wan was not so naïve though. "Well, there are more good Jedi than bad ones, right?" He lifted his face to look up at his master, "And there are always people. If I meet up with a bad Jedi, there are still good Jedi around, right? I can go back to the créche until you come back. I've been there for years and everything was alright. We see Master Yoda all the time, and we go to class and it's just us—kids, and some teacher."

This was…very true. Qui-Gon knew he was being ridiculously over-protective. In the face of such logic, there was no way for him to argue. Besides, there was a part of Qui-Gon that wanted to go out into the field. He was a Jedi, after all, and letting others do the work had never been the Jedi way.

"You can go stop the serial killer. I don't want to get in your way, or cause people to be hurt."

The Jedi Master pressed a kiss on top of the boy's head. "You will never get in my way, Padawan. But—alright, you've convinced me. Stay here while I go talk to Master Windu, alright?"

The child nodded, the training bond jingling between them, and Qui-Gon found himself relaxing for what seemed to be the first time in weeks since they first became master and padawan. Who knew that words of wisdom could come from such innocent, young beings? He ruffled the boy's head and released him so he could go after Mace.


	7. Wiles of Coruscant

A murder was reported on the holonet before Qui-Gon and Mace could get their act together.

"It figures that she's on the opposite side of the planet," Mace grumbled. They could cross over there in about four hours when going hypersonic, but could not go any faster due to air friction and the complications it would create at such high speeds. Due to going faster than sound, the Jedi were allowed to fly above the skyways to cut across the atmosphere.

"I have a prediction."

"What?" Qui-Gon asked.

"I predict we won't be sleeping anywhere comfortable while we're there."

"I'll wager we won't be sleeping at all over there."

Qui-Gon missed the little one. It felt odd not to have the child at his side. Granted, he was a lot closer to the boy than he would have been—they were on the same planet, after all, and Obi-Wan's presence hummed at the end of the bond. The boy missed him, a sentiment that brought a smile to Qui-Gon's lips, but the child was also a bit excited because he would spend more time at the créche with his friends again. Qui-Gon had arranged for Obi-Wan to spend the nights at the créche so that he did not have to wallow in an empty apartment. Non-Jedi nine-year-olds would probably be alright with that, but Obi-Wan had never been alone by himself for so long before, and there was plenty of time to wean him into it.

There was going to be a lot of weaning with Obi-Wan. There usually was with padawans, but Obi-Wan was so little, there was going to be a lot more.

Mace poked him in the arm. "Focus," He chastised, "Stop thinking about your little one. You're like a mother hen. No attachments, Qui."

"I'm not _attached_ ," Qui-Gon growled, "And it's a fine thing for you to be preaching when you don't have a padawan of your own right now. It's not like we're doing anything important at the moment." They were simply flying. A boring ship, at that, on a rather straightforward route to the opposite side of the planet.

Mace sighed. "He's a cute boy. I'll give you that. And he did us a service, convincing you to remember who you are."

Qui-Gon grunted.

"You have always been strong in the Force. If you're on edge, it's probably with good reason."

"Thanks, Mace."

"Even if you're just crazy most of the time."

"Hm!" Qui-Gon turned away, laughing.

* * *

Servathi was no laughing matter.

"Streetrat," Said the captain, though not derisively, "Too many of them running around. Imperfect world, sad to see them come to this."

It was a boy, and he even looked a little bit like Obi-Wan, clad in rags and thin to the bone. Mace was keeping a steady hand at his elbow as Qui-Gon repeated to himself that this was not Obi-Wan, that Obi-Wan was safe at the temple, the young one's presence still humming happily through their training bond.

"She mutilated this one," Mace said dispassionately, and it took all of Qui-Gon's training not to be sick at the words. He was releasing his anxiety into the Force like a man desperate for air.

"Are the wounds inflicted after death?" Asked Qui-Gon.

"No," Said the coroner, "None of them are. Neither are the ones on the others." Six other bodies lied around the room, all young boys around Obi-Wan's age.

Mace's grip tightened at his elbow.

_Right. Focus._

"We should go to the last site," Said the other Jedi, "See if there are any clues there as to where she went. It should resonate in the Force. These little ones are beyond our help now."

_These little ones._

His little one.

_By the Force, I should not have agreed to come on this mission…_

"Thank you for your time, Coroner," Mace said to the mortician, who nodded. Qui-Gon inclined his head as well, and was the model of composure until they left the morgue.

"She's targeting Obi-Wan."

"Your little one is safe."

_Little one._

"He's at the temple," Qui-Gon said tonelessly, "On the other side of the planet. But she's fixated on him somehow." How or why did not matter so much at this point, even if neither of them knew. Servathi was hardly a trained master of the Force, and Qui-Gon had been master for years and years. His shields should be impenetrable to a novice like her, no matter how much raw power she had. "How did she figure out what he looked like?"

"Qui, those children looked nothing like Obi-Wan." Mace's face was twisted, though. The last boy was far too thin, and from the ankles he was at least a year or two older than Obi-Wan. The facial structure was different, and he had somewhat longer hair, but he had the same colored hair, was around the same height, and there were enough similarities that no one could deny that Servathi had targeted him for those reasons. Other children were in varying states of health, but all with brownish hair, around the same height and same proportions in figure.

"Keep yourself together, Qui," Mace reminded him, and Qui-Gon blew out a breath. "This could be a coincidence."

They both knew how unlikely that was, even if her fixation on Obi-Wan was equally unlikely.

 _Obi-Wan is safe,_ Qui-Gon thought to himself even as he took out his comm. link. _He's safe at the temple, surrounded by his fellow créchelings, probably in bed right now, you can feel him through the bond and you know at least_ he _feels safe—_

"Qui-Gon," Mace began warily, "Qui-Gon, don't—"

"I'm just calling his Créche Master."

"Qui-Gon, you have a _bond_ with him! Since when did you stop trusting that?"

"Just a quick call," Qui-Gon insisted, as he finished punching in the frequency. "I'll only be a minute."

Mace rubbed his bald head in exasperation and waited as Qui-Gon finished talking to the Créche Master and _yes, he's fine, we've been taking care of him for the last seven or so years of his life you know, Master Jinn. I'd offer to hand this over to Obi-Wan but he's sleeping right now and it's not good to wake children up in the middle of the night unless you have to. Yes we'll keep an eye on him until you return, for little Obi-Wan's sake make sure you_ do _return. Don't worry, everything's fine._

"You are _obsessed_ ," Mace said at last, when Qui-Gon ended the transmission. "You are obsessed. You're going to the mind healers after this. You and your padawan both. I'm blaming this on your unusual bond for now, Qui, but if this keeps up I'm not sure if anyone will continue excusing you."

Giving into that parental impulse, crazy as that had been, actually calmed Qui-Gon considerably.

"I'm alright."

"You've lost your mind."

"I'm alright!"

"Well make sure that you are when we go to the site!" Mace huffed. "By the Force! Keep your head here with me, Qui! I need you here! I happen to need your attention more than your padawan at the moment!"

"Yes yes," Qui-Gon waved him along, "Let's go."

* * *

 

The officials had taped the last known area off haphazardly, and had left no one to watch over the place, which meant that the site was already spoiled. No one really cared all that much about the poor, and orphaned ragamuffins were unfortunately grouped into the lot. Luckily, Qui-Gon and Mace were not there to examine physical evidence.

Servathi took her sweet time here, Qui-Gon knew. She dragged the gagged and bound boy here and took her sweet time mutilating him. The air was thick with suffering, and Qui-Gon had to restrain himself from dialing on the comm. link again because he had a feeling the Créche Master would not receive it as well as she did the first time.

Mace knew him too well. "Qui-Gon…" He stated warningly.

"I'm fine. I'm completely fine."

"Hm!"

Their focus shifted back to the matter at hand, as they traced the already-fading Force imprints back in time. They split ways, with Mace heading up and Qui-Gon continuing at ground level.

 _"I can't decide if this is better or worse,"_ Mace said into his earpiece, _"She's alone, so she doesn't have that much influence, but she's very difficult to find. We can't afford to give her time to establish a pattern on Coruscant, but it's far too recent for us to be able to predict her movements and intercept her."_

"We can hunt her down. She's not good at masking her Force presence yet." Servathi had also demonstrated that she could not bypass the shields Mace and Qui-Gon had. Beyond knowing he had been Force-sensitive, she had no idea how much power Qui-Gon had.

Good with the lightsaber. Bad at judging her opponent. Whoever taught her really wanted her to die, even if he wanted her to kill a lot of people along the way.

 _"Dealer, 0200,"_ Mace suddenly announced, and Qui-Gon turned to look. Servathi was addicted to drugs, like most prostitutes. _"She'd probably be around this area. There are a lot of shady dealings here."_

Qui-Gon rounded the block. "I always find it strange when they deal in broad daylight." He saw an exchange, almost too deft for him to notice even though he was looking for it.

"Think he can tell me anything?" The dealer looked mousey and projected the aura of a rodent, his own features haggard and sickly due to his own use of the drugs he sold. There was the mad glint in his eyes that all drug-addicts had, one that was distinctly lacking in spirit, and yet hard, like an empty glass bottle.

_"Worth a shot. Works since you like a homeless person."_

"Come off it, Mace."

Drug-addicts were among the easiest to influence with the Force. Qui-Gon merely had to ask the question with a supplement of Force persuasion, and the stories spilled from the man's lips. A few days ago, he said, some really exotic twi'lek showed up in the neighborhood. He tried to get her to participate in activities Qui-Gon really was not interested in, but she had not been interested—either because he was a supply of drugs, or because he was not Force-sensitive and therefore not worth her attention. "Quite a looker," The dealer remarked, "If hips could kill, those hips…"

 _"Right,"_ Mace was not impressed, _"So she frequents the area. Time to cover our heads and wait, I think, if she is inclined to show up again this evening. Might not come up today though."_

Qui-Gon pulled his hood over his head after using the Force to wipe the man's memory of their meeting. "Sounds like we wait."

_"Still want to talk to her, try to capture her alive, Qui?"_

It was amazing how one's perspective changes when one had a child to look after. Qui-Gon was not so far gone that he would kill Servathi in cold blood, but he was no longer as unwilling as he had been.

"We'll see," He said to Mace, "We do whatever is the easiest." _Whatever the Force wills._

* * *

Servathi did not show up for several days, but a lot of misguided teens did. Qui-Gon had never experienced the same pang of anxiety when he had trained Feemor and Authsola. Maybe it was because at that point, they were secure in their standings in society, even if they were still young. Maybe he was just a lot less wise back then. Maybe he had not seen the dead body of a child that resembled one of them. Now, however, every time he saw a ragamuffin puffing smoke in the street, he thought of Obi-Wan, how these children were as young as Obi-Wan was, and Obi-Wan was _so young_.

 _"No twi'leks, even,"_ Said Mace, _"I'm trying to see if there are any twi'leks at all. She could have painted her skin, but there aren't any. She apparently is killing in bursts here, one day, seven, and then three days rest or something."_

Qui-Gon was half meditating in the shadows. The streetlamps had turned on, though they offered limited illumination.

The Force suddenly tugged, and he opened his eyes to look in that direction.

"Do you feel that, Mace?"

_"Yes."_

"I'm going over there to investigate."

_"Be careful, Qui."_

The darkness was like a thick blindfold over the place, run-down buildings seeping with it. Above the platforms cris-crossed to form pathways in the upper sections of the buildings. Qui-Gon allowed the Force to guide him through the winding alleys. The very air was restless, filled with miserable folk anxious to find some release from their wretched lives. He walked the footsteps of thugs and thieves, of murderers and rapists and brutes who spent half their minds somewhere else and the other half trying to catch up with the first half.

He heard the muffled scream before he came upon them. Servathi held a vibroknife in hand, grinning maliciously.

"Cry, little on!" She cooed, almost motherly in her tone, "Your pain fuels me like the best _iglshesi…_ Mmmm…we'll make do, we'll make do." She cackled hysterically.

It was instinct, not rage, that had Qui-Gon tugging at her lekku with the Force, pulling her away from another child she was maiming. She screeched, not expecting the attack, and tumbled to the ground, but was on her feet as Qui-Gon pulled out his lightsaber.

"More of you have come to play, hm?" Her own lightsaber painted an eerie glow over her features. It was not really red, more brown, like the color of dried blood. "How is my Obi-Wan? How is our little one? Hm?"

"Something odd is going on here," Qui-Gon said to Mace. He then focused on her. "Who is Obi-Wan?" He played, "Who is this little one?"

She angled her lightsaber slowly, making the shadows roll across the child who was making soft, choked noises. "Obi-Wan," She said idly, "Who is Obi-Wan?" She giggled uncontrollably. "You hear it? You hear it singing? 'Obi-Wan', 'Obi-Wan', 'Keep him close, that Obi-Wan, or the darkness shall take him! We shall take him!' Hahaha! Hahaha! Hahahaha!"

There was a loud sickening snap and the boy she had been torturing screamed.

_"Completely nutters, Qui, draw her up! Make her go up!"_

Qui-Gon lashed out with his lightsaber, and the two blades hummed as they clashed.

"You are _hot_ ," Servathi cooed to him, narrowing her dark eyes, "I bet you can do tons of things with that body of yours, hm? You make lots of women scream, I'll bet. Jedi always do. They pretend, oh how they pretend! But once the sun sets and all goes dark, when you don't see their faces, they prowl just like the rest of the scum, and they ride hard, they ride _very_ hard."

Qui-Gon drove her back, mind focused on the battle instead of what her words implied. _Focus on the here and now._ Later he could analyze her words and see if there was any sense in them, or if the drugs and the mix of anger and hatred had rendered her incapable of any sane talk whatsoever. He pushed her up almost without realizing it, and she dodged Mace's blade at the last millisecond, hissing and sputtering. The purple blade did manage to sizzle through one of her lekku's. She went down instantly, incapacitated by the pain. Qui-Gon angled his blade at her throat while Mace deactivated his own lightsaber and went forward to restrain her. Servathi's lightsaber rolled to the side, deactivating on its own.

"She'll be executed anyway, Qui," Mace said seriously once he secured the cuffs on her.

Qui-Gon left her to him in favor of going to the child. He knelt down by him just as the boy expelled a last shuddering breath. A Force-sensitive human, Qui-Gon caught, before the youngling was lost forever.

He slapped his knee and tried not to succumb to the profound disappointment at having failed to save the child.

* * *

Seeing Obi-Wan was like inhaling fresh air after being buried for far too long. Qui-Gon refrained from outright hugging the young one in front of everyone, but he was anxious to approach him, and knelt to the boy's height to look him over. Around them, the other créchelings watched curiously. Initiate Chun visibly scowled at the scene.

"Master!" Obi-Wan beamed at him. Were his other padawans ever so happy to see him? "Did you stop the killer?"

Very much so. The braintails of twi'leks contained, as the name suggested, part of their brains, and injury to the lekku's promised injury to the brain. Servathi had fallen unconscious shortly after Mace secured her, and had not woken since. Likely, she never will. "Yes, Obi-Wan."

"Good," Obi-Wan declared, "Now he will not kill any more people."

Qui-Gon swallowed, mind flashing to the boys he had been unable to save. He still could not allow himself to hug the youngster, but he did reach out to grab his shoulders. "How are you?" He asked. "What have you been up to while I was away?"

He rose as Obi-Wan chattered, only half listening, most of his mind focused on the fact that he could hear the young voice, that the child was alive and warm next to him. It was troubling, he knew, that he was so protective of his padawan—all masters were, to a certain degree, but they were Jedi, and the life of a Jedi is a life of sacrifice. He could not always shelter Obi-Wan from the world, from a galaxy filled with danger, but Qui-Gon allowed himself to indulge in a little protectiveness as long as Obi-Wan was not expected to be able to defend himself.

At nine years old, as skilled as Obi-Wan might be, he could not possibly defend himself against the true threats out there.

Almost as if on cue, Obi-Wan exclaimed, "I'm allowed to spar again! Garen was right, I didn't forget after all! Master Yoda said I need to stretch though, because I lost some of my flex—flex—flex'bil'ty, but I didn't suddenly forget."

"Oh?" Qui-Gon laughed, bending down to tuck the child to his side, "Care to show your master what you remember later?"

Obi-Wan hesitated, and there was a sudden spike of nerves that indicated the boy was a bit intimidated. There was no way to make him more relaxed, and a little bit of nerves was healthy, especially in the beginning. Qui-Gon tucked the boy closer. "Come on, I'm curious."

"Alright." He still looked nervous.

"Later," Qui-Gon assured him. It could be difficult to submit to an examination of sorts on the spot. Obi-Wan seemed to relax a little at this. There will come a time when he would not be given such a courtesy, but for now…

 _Force, he is only nine years old…_ Obi-Wan is so young…

The Force suddenly tensed in warning. Qui-Gon turned around to see Mace and a few other Jedi Knights carrying Servathi in. Before he could stop him, Obi-Wan was edging forward in curiosity. Servathi suddenly snapped her head to look at him. Her wounded lekku dangled black and charred behind her head.

"Obi-Wan," She giggled, though it sounded more like a cackle, and suddenly lunged off the stretcher toward him. Her hands were still cuffed, and she started off at a bad angle, so she only succeeded in upending the stretcher and dumping herself onto the floor. Obi-Wan drew to Qui-Gon's side, alarmed.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," Servathi cackled again, eyes carrying a mad glint, "There's a sweet thing! Bet you'll grow into quite a looker, if you live that long! The Dark Side is looking for you, we need to consume. The Jedi—the Jedi will fall, and it will all be because of you! You will bring about the end of the Jedi!" She cackled again, and was roughly pulled back. The other knights soon blocked her view as she started thrashing.

 _Sith,_ Qui-Gon hissed in his mind, _And we thought she wasn't going to wake up._ Obi-Wan was shaking next to him, whimpering a little in distress.

"Hush, young one," The master said to his padawan, "Don't believe all you hear. She is a madwoman."

"How did she know me?"

How indeed? But Obi-Wan should not worry about this. he was only nine years old, and Qui-Gon's padawan.

"Hush now, my child," Qui-Gon turned the boy away, "She is Force-sensitive, don't worry about it."

It was a long time before his little one calmed down.


	8. Equilibrium

That night, Obi-Wan had a nightmare. The boy did not scream, nor did he cry particularly loudly, but Qui-Gon was roused by the sheer distress transmitting through the bond. Obi-Wan had not yet learned how to shield, and Qui-Gon had not taught him to do so because it was a relatively mature technique, and it proved to be fortunate because otherwise, the master would have been completely unaware of his little one's condition.

He found the child sobbing quietly, whimpering and sometimes groaning, as if in pain. The boy started when shaken, and grabbed onto Qui-Gon's shirt in the darkness. The city lights reflected off the tears on his cheeks, and his eyes were wide and round in terror.

"M-Master?"

 _A vision_ , something whispered to him, and Qui-Gon realized solemnly that tonight, Obi-Wan had finally taken the vision that was meant for him.

"I'm here," He said, "You're safe, Padawan."

He asked what the dream was about, but Obi-Wan had a hard time articulating it. Something about red, shadows, shadows that frightened him, and he was sorry because he knew Jedi were not supposed to be afraid, but it felt scary, and though Obi-Wan tried to be brave, it was painful to be near, so he ran, and it kept chasing him and cackling along the way. He tried to find Qui-Gon, but he could not find his master, and he was all alone, all alone.

"You're not alone, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon pulled him into a hug, "I'm right here, and there are no evil shadows." He opened his own mind to the boy and allowed Obi-Wan to bask in the light, though this did not do as much as he would like to dispel the tremors from the little body.

He stayed with the distraught boy for the rest of the night to shelter him from bad dreams.

The next morning, a red-eyed, sleepy Obi-Wan was fully recovered from his ordeal; Qui-Gon had to admire the resilience of the young. After a cheerful goodbye, he was off to classes, and Qui-Gon went to seek Yoda. The Grand Master had been skeptical of their partnership, but unlike Mace he had not actively questioned Qui-Gon's senses after seeing them together that first time.

"I need help with him," Qui-Gon told him, "He's starting to have dreams too, after seeing Servathi." The twi'lek had succumbed back into her coma as if nothing had happened, but there were enough witnesses to attest to the encounter. "The Force makes it feel like danger is everywhere. I don't know how to make sense of this."

"Hm," Said Yoda, "Care too much about him, you do."

Qui-Gon glared in irritation. "Are you seriously telling me not to care about my student?"

He was so aggravated that he did not even flinch when Yoda hit him with his stick. He barely even felt it.

"The Force led me to him. It compelled me to bond with him, and now it's compelling me to protect him from an imminent threat, but I have no idea what it is. I'm told to keep him close, but how close? I'm told the Dark Side is after him, but what in the galaxy does that mean? How in the galaxy did Servathi know him? And when it was just me, I could handle it, I could wait. Now it's leeched to Obi-Wan, and I need to get to the bottom of this."

Despite his short tones, Yoda did not hit him again. "Meditated on this, have you?"

Qui-Gon shook his head, but not in negative. "It hasn't worked. I don't see things any more clearly. I just know someone…some _thing_ , is after my padawan. I've no clue who or what. That twi'lek knew his name, despite never meeting him before—how many other Dark Siders know him?"

"Hm…" Yoda's face pinched in thought. "Warned you, I did, that poor match you make. See now, do you? Problems now, your padawan has, unable to solve them, you are."

Qui-Gon scowled. "I wasn't aware that masters have to train their padawans on their own. It's always been a communal effort in the past."

Yoda did not bother hitting him for his insolence. His face softened. "Help you, we will. Calm down, you need to. Danger, there is, to Obi-Wan, but not immediate, and careful, we must be."

Qui-Gon released a breath. "Who's we?" He demanded, the question borne of that paranoia he was frankly getting sick of.

"For now, only I," Said Yoda, "But, interested, Master Sifo-Dyas is, as is Master Billaba. Want, do you, to call Dooku here?"

"No." It was almost alarming how much conviction was in the answer. "I don't want too many people." There were already too many people, when Qui-Gon had been less discrete with the issues at hand.

"More attention, you should have paid, on lectures of the Unifying Force," Said the Grand Master, "But time we have. Sense that, I do. For now, center yourself, you should. Crazy master helps padawan little, hm?"

Qui-Gon scowled, but wisely bit back any comment on that remark.

* * *

He was in the middle of meditating when he felt a pointed tug on the mental bond.

The novelty of the training bond had worn off long ago, and Obi-Wan had always made sure to fiddle with it in his presence. Right now, the boy was supposed to be in class.

He sent a wave of inquiry along the bond, but only felt another tug. The child did not know how to broadcast yet, but now that his focus had been summoned, Qui-Gon realized what was going on.

_Bruck Chun._

At least the boy had called to him. Qui-Gon instantly left his place in the gardens and headed toward the boy's presence. He was in one of the halls when he felt a wave of anger spike. He thrust a soothing wave through the bond, which calmed the child down a little, but there was a simmering annoyance that was quickly working its way up to anger again.

"Master Jinn," Kit Fisto whirled around to walk in the same direction as Qui-Gon, "You look like you're on a mission."

Qui-Gon actually had no idea what he intended to do once he found Obi-Wan, since the boy was in class. Usually by the time the children were selected as padawans, their anger issues were more or less resolved. Feemor and Authsola had both been wonderful padawans in that regard. Obi-Wan was a little young.

"There's something I needed to see," He said instead. "Do you want to come with me?"

"We're going to the crécheling salles."

"That we are."

"This is about your little one again, isn't it, Qui-Gon?"

"My little one and another," He replied.

The Nautolan did not say any more as they made their way to the doors. There were bright blades flashing in the room, which was to be expected in the salles. Obi-Wan was almost right in front of Qui-Gon, whirling his weapon with the ease of at least a thirteen-year-old, while Initiate Chun fought opposite him with a series of blows that became more and more haphazard.

 _Easy,_ Qui-Gon thought into their bond, _Do not give in to anger._

The little one released the wry thought that this was not exactly how he envisioned his master to witness his lightsaber skills.

 _Focus,_ Qui-Gon thought with amusement. _You're doing well._ He was. He was moving with the fluidity and grace of someone much older. It was a little baffling to see such a small body encompass the moves of a more experienced duelist. _  
_

He felt a burst of pride from Obi-Wan, before the youngster quickly let go of it in order to focus on the duel. Bruck Chun's signature was becoming more and more ugly by the second. He had finally caught the attention of the trainer, who was calling across the room for them to stop. Obi-Wan heard, but Bruck did not.

"That one has no future," Kit said immediately. "Not unless Master Yoda works miracles. Which, admittedly, he does, but I'm not holding my breath at this age."

Qui-Gon looked at the Nautolan, wondering if the knight had ever held his breath in his life considering his amphibious nature, but his attention was then turned when his little one tugged on the bond again—a question.

 _Keep defending,_ He instructed, _Focus on not getting hurt. Be patient._

He felt the child acknowledge, though outwardly there was little difference. After a few seconds, however, the boy wanted this to end.

_Patience, little one. I am here. You are doing well._

The trainer finally used the Force to heave the other boy away. Obi-Wan let out a sigh of relief, before turning to look at Qui-Gon. The Jedi Master nodded at him.

_Good work._

The boy turned to see the trainer scolding Bruck, who was trying to defend himself by laying at least some of the blame on Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon was suddenly struck with a brief, mild vision. Bruck had been resentful, had picked a fight with Obi-Wan to get him in trouble, expecting the other to give in to his anger. Qui-Gon had buffered him, and Obi-Wan had remained in defensive mode all throughout. The trainer was not fooled.

 _"You will remain after class,"_ He said to the white-haired boy, who scowled in indignation at his thwarted plans.

Obi-Wan watched this, his friends surrounding him, and Qui-Gon sensed the moment the boy understood what just happened.

"Look at that," Kit marveled, "Your little one's not too shabby with the lightsaber either, eh? He's a natural—on the defensive and hardly breaking a sweat. Didn't he have his legs broken before?"

* * *

Obi-Wan was reasonably delighted with how things turned out, exclaiming that next time he would definitely know to do that on his own. Kit Fisto and Tahl watched with amusement as the little one joined them for lunch, bringing his friends along.

"It got hard," The child chirped, "Because I thought he'd _never_ stop, and Trainer Vas didn't notice and I thought no one would notice, and I could just stop him. I know I'm good enough, and I just wanted him to stop and I wanted to do anything to make him stop hitting me."

The Mon Calamari, Bant, giggled at this.

"Stop," Muln echoed mischievously.

"Stop," The Dressellian boy joined in.

"Stop," Obi-Wan grinned.

"Stop."

"Stop."

"Stop."

Qui-Gon and Tahl exchanged a look. He had forgotten how children made games out of the strangest things.

"Stop."

"Stop."

"Stop."

"Stop."

Obi-Wan ended it with a giggle. "But Bruck got really sloppy. I could have stabbed him several times but I didn't. Is that what happens when someone gets angry?"

"Oh yes," Said the Nautolan, "Sloppiness is the side-effect of anger."

Qui-Gon mused that with the way they taught younglings in the temple, the initiates hardly ever understood just what the consequences were for anything they were told to avoid, because usually they get scolded before anything substantial happens. This could send a bad message. He wondered if this was the reason there were so many rogues these days.

"It's hard," Obi-Wan said, referring to keeping patient, "But worth it. Thanks, Master!" He said to Qui-Gon, who smiled at him.

"Why did Chun attack you?" Tahl asked. "Were you two partners?"

"We could choose our own partners. I wouldn't choose Bruck if my life depended on it," Obi-Wan said seriously, "But he came up to me even though I wanted to spar with Garen."

"He kept calling him 'Oafy-Wan'," Garen Muln complained, "He wouldn't shut up." He was less shy about the event than Obi-Wan was. "He was saying, 'Let's see how you do after you were crippled', and 'I don't see why the great Master Qui-Gon Jinn would choose a loser like you for a padawan, maybe he just felt sorry for you because you were crying too much.' Obi ignored him—"

"Well I told him to go away," Obi-Wan corrected,

"And then he shoved Obi, and then Obi said, 'What do you want', and then I told him to go away, and then he turned on his saber and said 'What's wrong, nerfherder? Too scared?' And then Obi turned on his own lightsaber and told Bruck to turn his off or _else_ , and then Bruck attacked and then they started fighting."

"Bruck struck first," Obi-Wan reiterated.

"Good on you," Said Kit, "For keeping calm."

"Well I wasn't calm all throughout," Obi-Wan said shyly, "I got really nervous when he turned his saber on—they burn bad."

"That they do," The Nautolan agreed.

"And when he attacked I got really mad because I wanted to spar with Garen and I don't know what his problem is."

"You controlled your anger," Qui-Gon ruffled the boy's head, "That is to be commended. It's alright to feel angry, as long as you control it and don't let it guide your actions."

Obi-Wan smiled happily.

"And now Chun has cleaning duty," Garen went on, "Serves him right! Hey! That's my muja tart, Reeft!"

"I thought you didn't want it," The Dressellian exclaimed.

"I was _telling_ a _story!_ " Garen's face pinched in distress. Qui-Gon decided that Muln was rather cute too. "I was saving it for last!" He pouted.

"You can have mine, Garen," Said Bant, "I don't really want it."

Obi-Wan opted to eat his muja tart first.

Kit and Tahl grinned at the dynamic, looking at each other in shared mirth.

"Your little one seems completely unaffected by last night," Tahl whispered to Qui-Gon.

"He…" Qui-Gon paused, "He focuses on the good."

"He'll make a great Jedi," She said.

"I hope Bruck gets chosen soon, like me," Obi-Wan announced, "Then maybe he'd stop picking _fights._ "

"I hope he _never_ gets chosen," Bant shuddered, "That way he can just leave. I don't like him."

"It'll take another three years before he can leave. I want him chosen _now_ , so that his master can stop him from hitting me all the time. And I want to go to that master and ask him to get him to stop calling me 'Oafy-Wan'. It's not _funny_ no matter what Aalto says!"

Qui-Gon could not resist chuckling. Sometimes children amaze him with their insights, especially when they were least expected to have any.

"I think I'll pick one of his friends," Tahl said quietly to him.

"Oh? Which one?"

"Not sure yet. They're all delightful. Maybe the girl. It's about time I trained a girl."

"I want her!" Kit scowled at Tahl. "You have a human there. It's not fair that humans keep picking others and leaving us to pick humans. You don't swim nearly as well!"

"Master's prerogative," Tahl said pitilessly, "You're only a knight."

"Bah!" Kit pretended to fume.

"She's a year younger than the others," Qui-Gon said to Tahl, "Eight years old is a bit much. You should probably wait at least a year."

"Hm." Tahl looked at Bant contemplatively.

* * *

Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon decided, has become the most fussed over padawan in the history of Jedi, at least in terms of the number of people who were getting involved in his welfare. Yoda had adhered to his wish of discretion, but there were many others who were indirectly involved even if they did not know the whole story, usually in regards to research. The youngster was completely ignorant of all this, fully engrossed in whatever children his age were doing and learning. Meanwhile, Servathi remained in her comatose state, and there was a great debate about whether it was worth sustaining her. Qui-Gon was glad to leave that up to other Jedi; certain issues he would not willingly touch even if he touched the Dark Side first.

When he was not listening to other people talk about their research, their experiences, how he was being ridiculous and appeared attached to his new padawan, he listened to Obi-Wan chatter about his day and started taking the boy to the salles for private lessons. The impromptu duel with Bruck had done much to alleviate the boy's anxiety at the prospect of demonstrations, and he showed consistency in his talents. Qui-Gon held back less with him than he initially did with either Feemor or Authsola, and it was actually difficult not to overdo things and accidentally harm the little one, because Obi-Wan was so short and agile. His endurance needed work, there were plenty of maneuvers he had not learned, and though he had an instinctual grasp of how to combine bladework with Force skills, he sometimes had problems coordinating. He also had a low tolerance of hunger, and would get distracted by his stomach. Still, he was a bright student, obedient and naturally compassionate, and always did his best. Qui-Gon could not be more proud of him.

As for the boy's nightmares, they came and went, sometimes two nights in a row, sometimes nothing for about a week. They were always the same theme: darkness chasing the light, chasing him, isolating him from everyone else. One night, Obi-Wan told him that he saw a Sith. When Qui-Gon asked how the boy knew, the child replied that the Sith told him so. The next morning, as with all mornings after the dreams, the boy was none the worse for wear, leaving Qui-Gon absolutely envious of how children could just brush things off like that.

"Safe, he feels," Yoda explained with some humor, "In the here and now, children always are. Think not of the past, nor the future, but in the present. Loved, he feels, so happy, he is. Unconcerned, he therefore is, by his dreams."

Denying that he _loved_ Obi-Wan would sound too defensive, and it was not what Yoda had said, anyway. The Grand Master merely claimed that the boy felt loved, and frankly, Qui-Gon figured it was best, especially if it meant it would negate the trauma those frequent nightmares would have induced.

"They're haunting him," Qui-Gon shook his head, "I don't like it. And it's wearing _me_ down." He had to wake Obi-Wan from them each time, and stay with the boy until morning. "I prefer having the premonitions myself, even if _those_ also drive me insane."

Yoda tapped his shin lightly with his stick, face sympathetic. The mind healers unraveled nothing—Qui-Gon was not experienced enough with the Unifying Force to know what to look for or what to pay attention to, even with their guidance, and Obi-Wan was a nine-year-old firmly ensconced in the present and did not understand all the instructions given to him. Even if he did, the dreams seemed more like feelings than images, and feelings were always difficult to determine.

"Stronger, he is," The Grand Master digressed, "More controlled, he is. Good influence for him, you are."

"He trusts me," Said Qui-Gon, "From the start. And he is a good child. He just needed someone to be patient, to figure out his side of the story."

"A loss to the Jedi, he would have been, if not chosen, he were," Said Yoda, "Fond of him, I am. Gladden me, it does, to see that doing well, he is." He paused for a moment. "If beloved by the dark, he is, attachments, he may need."

Qui-Gon had no idea if this was a verbal trap and how to avoid it. "As far as I know," He said uncomfortably, "The darkness does not love."

"Hate, it does, but love of hating, it is," Said Yoda with a cocked eyebrow, "In many ways, love the light, all Dark Siders do, and hate it all the more, they do, because far away, the light is, for them. Lose appreciation for beauty, ugly things do not. In many ways, love beauty more, shadows do, than those in the light, for how impossible, for them, it is. Better than most, Initiate Kenobi is. Even though strong in the Unifying Force, drew you to him, his light did."

Qui-Gon nodded at this.

"Is that what's drawing the nightmares too?" He asked. "And attracting Dark Siders? Could the Dark Side be as drawn to him as I was?"

"Possible," Was all Yoda said to this, "However, draw the dark, fear does as well. A strong bond, you two have, to enable sharing of gifts. Possible, it is, that attracted to your padawan, danger is, through your own fear. Vigilant, we all need to be, but be crazy, we do not! For the Unifying Force, cloud our vision, fear does. Light and Dark, work to send visions, both do. Draws the dark, fear does. Draws the light, serenity. Required, inner peace is, to see the truth."

Inner peace might be required to see the truth, but it certainly was not sufficient; Qui-Gon was enough of a master that he could meditate easily and bring himself to the right state of mind, but the nightmares continued, sporadically, and his heart continued seizing with urgency. On occasion he would be hit with a vision that would give him some insight into his padawan, though most were for rather trivial things: confrontations with Bruck Chun and his friend Aalto, bouts of mischief with mechanics, little hurts and aches the child chose to endure silently, moments when the boy was not so unaffected by his dreams after all. The issues were quickly becoming more routine than problematic, but he was no closer to the reasons behind them than he was in the beginning.

"It could be you need these talents in the future," Said Tahl to a very sleep-deprived Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan was actually wearing down from this as well.

"Why can't it be something pleasant for once?" He lamented. "Neither Obi-Wan nor I would object too much if his dreams were filled with bubbles."

"Bubbles?" Tahl asked, having missed the first time he visited the boy at the hospital, "Why bubbles?"

"He likes bubbles," Said Qui-Gon.

* * *

Jedi initiates, before they were chosen, had a lot more time to play than padawans normally did. Since both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were stressed out by the issues plaguing their bond, Yoda convinced the council to allow the master to take his student off Coruscant to explore without the hassle of missions while everyone else looked up training bonds and what could cause someone like Servathi to know of a Jedi youngling she had never seen before. Qui-Gon picked Alderaan because of its rich culture and safe neighborhoods. He would have picked Obi-Wan's home planet, but felt it ought to wait until Obi-Wan was older, and their master-apprentice training bond stopped doing whatever it was doing. Princess Breha Antilles will be hosting a birthday banquet soon, and had invited the Jedi Order as a gesture of appreciation for their part in settling a royal ascendancy dispute. Jorus C'baoth was the one who resolved the contention, but the Jedi Watchman had been dispatched to another sector and was unable to join the reception. The council figured Qui-Gon might as well represent the Order while he was there, and it was a lax enough "mission" for Obi-Wan to participate in.

"We are staying with the Organa family?" His little one asked when Qui-Gon briefed him on their plans in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The child was anxious about this in all senses of the word; he had never left Coruscant upon coming here to train, and his memories of his home world was faint and sporadic. He claimed he remembered playing with a little brother and being fairly content, but could not remember much of a world different from Coruscant. "Do they have children like me?"

"They have four, all older than you. The son is…ten years older than you, so he's nineteen, the youngest sister I think is thirteen…" Which was still significantly older than nine, at least from their point of view. Bail Organa was already taking up work in the senate.

Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose. Through the bond, Qui-Gon caught flickers of doubt—he was skeptical about how interesting it would be to spend time with teenagers, which was a fair concern. The master tugged gently on the boy's braid.

"You'll be fine," He promised. "We will stay with the Organas, but you will meet others." It was not often that such a young padawan visited a planet for non-business reasons. Alderaan's many officials were all curious to meet Obi-Wan. "Besides, we're there to have some fun."

Obi-Wan grinned at him. "You're not like most Jedi are you, Master?"

"Would you prefer if I were?"

"No," Obi-Wan shook his head resolutely, still grinning.

He tapped the boy on the nose, inspiring a giggle.

As they rose to make their way out of the gardens, Qui-Gon's stomach suddenly plummeted for seemingly no reason. He looked around to find what had disturbed him.

"Hi Xanatos!" Obi-Wan called. The master followed his padawan's line of sight to a familiar face. It was the man Qui-Gon had seen in his very first dream when Obi-Wan became his padawan—the man from the banquet. There was a faint sinister air about him, though not more so than the more corrupt business officials. He resisted the impulse to pull his little one close.

"Hello, Obi-Wan. Is this your master?" Xanatos turned his eyes to Qui-Gon to consider him.

"Yes, this is my master, Qui-Gon Jinn," Obi-Wan beamed. "Master, this is Governor Xanatos Du Crion. He's from Telos!"

"Pleasure to meet you, Master Jinn," The governor bowed a little.

"Likewise," Qui-Gon managed not to sound too stiff. He could not help tensing, however, when Obi-Wan left his side of his own volition to approach the Telosian, who then had the audacity to rub the back of the boy's head in an outwardly affectionate gesture. The rings on each finger glimmered in the light.

He was handsome, that young man, with his fair skin and dark black hair, his features noble and aristocratic, no doubt a fusion of a strong father and a beautiful mother. There was a sadistic set to his expression, however, as if he were use to sneering, and the light in his eyes was sharp and cold, even when he tried to smile. The soft look in his eyes as he regarded the child in front of him did not negate the lines of his face, and Qui-Gon sensed a faint blackness to him. He was…Force-sensitive, trained enough to shield himself. Though the Jedi Master wanted to delve deeper, he was far too anxious about Obi-Wan's proximity to focus on anything except how to get the boy away from him.

Behind the Telosian, Knight Adi Gallia stood looking completely ignorant of the dynamics of the situation. Eeth Koth was more observant, and had noticed Qui-Gon's displeasure. Near them were other individuals, not Jedi, many of whom wore similar outfits to the governor, though none so ostentatious.

"Telos?" Qui-Gon looked back at the Telosian, "That is a long way from Coruscant."

"Ah, yes, we have some business dealings with the Senate— I am here to represent the companies on my planet. The Jedi Council was kind enough to allow us to visit your fine temple a few weeks ago."

 _Where you met Obi-Wan, no doubt._ That was right around the second time when Qui-Gon had been hunting Servathi with Mace.

"I had the privilege of meeting this little one," The governor went on in what passed for a fond tone, "The youngest padawan in generations, correct? This one will do great things."

Obi-Wan laughed shyly, or perhaps it was not just bashfulness in his voice, because the young one slipped away from the governor to duck next to Qui-Gon as he tugged on his master through the training bond. Qui-Gon wanted to reach out to pull him close, but he did not want to reveal the depths of his affection for the child to this stranger.

"Thank you, Governor," He said a little brusquely, "I am glad you enjoyed your visit here. May the Force favor your business dealings with the Senate."

"Thank you, Master Jedi," The young man bowed again, reeking of charm. "May the Force be with you, and…your little one."

Qui-Gon did not bow back, and Obi-Wan stopped himself as he started when he realized his master was not doing it. The two walked past the puzzled folk gathered near the entrance to the gardens and stepped out into the hall.

"Master?" Obi-Wan inquired nervously, once they were out of earshot.

"Yes, my padawan?"

"You didn't like Xanatos."

Qui-Gon stopped, wondering if he was being paranoid again, but figured that he would much rather be paranoid and keep Obi-Wan safe than let this feeling go only to face the consequences later. He knelt down and grasped the child's face between his hands.

"Padawan," He said softly, "If I tell you to avoid him from now on, will you do it?"

Obi-Wan's eyes widened, but he nodded.

"I want you to stay away from him," He said, "Even if the other Jedi don't understand. Even if other masters tell you to go to him. Just tell them your master forbids you to be near him."

The boy blinked. "What if it's Master Yoda?"

"Yoda is not your master, I am," Qui-Gon looked into his eyes, "Someday you will understand, when you have a padawan of your own. But even if it's Master Yoda requesting you to go to him, if you see that you will be with Xanatos, leave, and summon me through the bond like I told you with Bruck Chun. Promise me that, padawan."

The child's trust in him was absolute. "I promise, Master."

He was frightened, so Qui-Gon indulged in a brief kiss on the forehead. "Alright, enough of that. We're going to Alderaan! You better think about anything you haven't packed yet, because we will be there for a while…"


	9. Fun in Alderaan

Qui-Gon did not know what he was like when he got his first candy, but he imagined this was what it must have felt like. Alderaan was a gorgeous planet, with architecture structured around its rich natural landscapes, and if there was a single word that could describe the planet, it was _art._ Pure art, in its terrains, the people and their clothing, the buildings, the music, the language and literature, and the philosophy of the society.

It was every bit as sophisticated as Coruscant, but with less of its congestion and the millions of different sentients that crowded the center of the Republic. Alderaan breathed beauty and grace and fresh, open air. It was less worldly—no planet could be as worldly as Coruscant, but it was refined, and a wonderful way to ease a child like Obi-Wan away from the state-of-the-art modernizations of Coruscant to more nature-inclined environments. His little one gaped at the planet as they descended, eyes wide as if trying to take in as much as possible, and through their training bond the Force sang in excitement. When they alighted from the ship, the boy seemed almost disoriented, his young signature stretching out into the vast Force around them, and he clung to Qui-Gon's hand as if afraid he would float away without an anchor.

It made Qui-Gon wonder if perhaps a person strong in the Unifying Force felt as disoriented by the Living Force as he had been when he first dreamed.

"How come the Jedi don't train on Alderaan? Wouldn't it be better? It would be like an entire planet-sized Room of A Thousand Fountains!"

"Well, there are people who live on Alderaan, so we wouldn't be able to use the whole planet."

"Oh." Obi-Wan tripped, and tugged on Qui-Gon to keep himself upright. "Well, but still! This place is amazing! Can we convince the Council to move?"

Qui-Gon was having a hard time smothering his chuckles by the time the two of them approached their hosts.

"Prince Antilles," He inclined his head, and likewise acknowledged the nineteen-year-old Bail Organa who appeared to have driven himself and his father here, "Thank you for picking us up. Obi-Wan, this is His Highness, Prince Bail Antilles, also senator of Alderaan, Viceroy Organa, and his son, Bail Organa _._ This is my padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Obi-Wan bowed, looking a bit awed.

"You two have the same name!"

The prince, clearly not expecting such a forward child among the Jedi, blinked in surprise at this.

"Why, yes, we do share the same name," He said.

"Were you named after him?" Obi-Wan asked Bail Organa. Since this was not a mission, the boy was not required to do research, and therefore could not have known that the Antilles and Organa households had been feuding not long before and there was no way an Organa would name their son after an Antilles.

"I wouldn't say that," The senior Organa recovered more quickly than the others, "Bail is a fairly favored name in Alderaan, Padawan Kenobi."

"It's like posting bail!"

Qui-Gon had no idea nine-year-olds would already know about court procedures, and gently pulled his little one back before he could inadvertently insult the two Bails. Not that the three of them were likely to be offended, judging from the thoroughly diverted expressions on all three faces and their corresponding escorts.

"He's not like other padawans," The viceroy noted as they boarded the vessel to fly to his estate. "Then again, most of them are older, but they have such grave personalities. Perhaps it is because I've never seen them on vacation?"

"He's special," Qui-Gon readily agreed, "Most nine-year-old initiates aren't like him."

"I thought most rich people have ca-ca-caperonis," Obi-Wan was saying to the junior Organa. "Does Alderaan not have caperonis?"

"Caperonis?" Bail Organa was thoroughly confused. "Do you mean chaperones?"

"Jedi children are still children, eh?" The viceroy smirked as Obi-Wan, equally nonplussed, proceeded to spell the word correctly—it turned out he had never heard the word pronounced out loud. "Destined to risk life and limb for the galaxy, but as children they are like any other. Bail for court, indeed! It's amazing how young minds work, isn't it?"

Despite the kind spirit of the comment, Qui-Gon found himself feeling a little sour. "We all risk life and limb for the galaxy, in our own way."

"True." The viceroy sensed his displeasure. "No life is better or worse than another, ultimately."

Qui-Gon chose not to comment on the slavery and ignominy he had seen as a Jedi; it would kill the mood completely.

The skyways on Alderaan were less congested than in Coruscant, and within less than half an hour they left the main area of the city. Obi-Wan might have been a little drugged from the sensation of the Living Force all around him, because Qui-Gon could swear the little one was not quite so fidgety and squirmy at the temple.

"What are those?" he pointed.

"Those are nerfs," Said Bail Organa, with some alarm, "You've never seen nerfs before?"

"Not in real life," Obi-Wan pointed out, "Where would I see them?"

Qui-Gon had a sense that he should be feeling embarrassed on behalf of his Order's child-rearing methods.

"Well nerfs are everywhere in the galaxy. We should take you to the wildlife park; you'll see many different fauna there."

"What's 'fauna'?"

"Animals, my padawan," Qui-Gon explained.

"Is that an Alderaan word?"

"No," The viceroy looked a bit nostalgic, "That's a Basic word, son."

"Fau-na," Obi-Wan frowned a little, "How's that spelled?" Once he was told, he then said, "They look strong enough to carry Master Qui-Gon! Can you ride them?"

Qui-Gon scowled as the two other men openly laughed at this. "Are you calling me fat, Obi-Wan?"

"What?" The boy blinked, "No. You're just big and heavy."

This inspired another round of laughter, made all the more hysterical by the fact that Obi-Wan had no idea why it was so funny.

"We should have more Jedi younglings come over," The prince said to the viceroy.

"That would be great!" Obi-Wan chirped at this, "I was telling Master earlier that we should train on Alderaan instead! It's much better than Coruscant!"

"You think so?" The viceroy remarked fondly.

"Oh yes, it's so nice and pretty here. Coruscant is loud and noisy and they do so much work to keep the Room of a Thousand Fountains quiet. On Alderaan they wouldn't need to!"

The viceroy's son snorted. "Can you imagine the tourist advertisements?"

"And then," Obi-Wan was planting his face against the window, "During breaks we can go ride nerfs." He was clearly warming up to the idea.

"What do you do during breaks on Coruscant?" Asked the prince.

"We go to the mall! But we need to go in groups, with a padawan or knight to es-es-escort us, or we go play in the courtyard, which is easier. The mall is no fun, it's just a lot of stores and food, and we can't buy any of them because we have no allowance like _normal_ people," Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose in distaste, as if he had any true inkling of what normal people were like.

 _I need to take him to Dexter's._ It had been a while since he last went to the Besalisk cook. Once they return to Coruscant, he would have to make sure to do that.

"What games do you play in the courtyard, Padawan?" Bail Organa asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"We play tag," His little one replied, "And hide and seek. And we spar, with sticks instead of training sabers, because we're only allowed to use _those_ in the salles, and the salles get smelly. We also play push-feather—that's when we try to push each other off-balance with the Force, and we have tournaments for that too. I'm bad at them." _Oafy-Wan,_ the name echoed faintly through the training bond, and Qui-Gon realized this was how the child got his nickname. "There's also this really tall tree and we race to see who climbs up the fastest—no one's ever been to the top. We use our sabers to carve our initials into the bark…" The little one chattered happily for the rest of the ride, constantly astounding the three Alderaanians with little hints of life at the temple that no one else would have revealed.

"My wife will love this kid," The viceroy said to Qui-Gon.

* * *

The entire Organa family adored Obi-Wan, even the thirteen-year-old sister of Bail Organa, who initially had doubts as to how approachable Jedi padawans were. Lunch was a hastened affair that was primarily taken up by the children, and the teenagers, with the exception of Bail and his older sister, took off with Obi-Wan to play somewhere and perhaps demand some demonstrations of Force tricks from the little one.

"Oh he is absolutely _adorable_ , Master Jinn!" The viceroy's wife exclaimed, "You are under orders to bring him by and visit us again after this."

Qui-Gon laughed, "As you wish, my lady. We will certainly try—Obi-Wan has taken an instant liking to the planet."

"Indeed," The prince agreed, "He wanted to move the Jedi Order here."

"Indeed? Well that boy has good sense, I tell you! Oh this makes me want another one!"

"Another one?" The prince grinned, "Your youngest is but thirteen!"

"I am allowed to be greedy once in a while," She declared, inspiring a round of mirth and agreement. "Oh but he is a darling! Master Jinn, you are a lucky, lucky man."

Jedi did not believe in luck, but Qui-Gon nodded to the spirit of her words. "I am indeed, my lady."

Hours later, Obi-Wan joined Qui-Gon, looking exhausted. "This place is _big_! They took me on a tour! They have a pool that looks like a lake, and these water birds, and…" He then listed all the sights as if Qui-Gon had never visited the place himself. "They have such great ships in the hangar! Do the Jedi have those ships? Can I fly one of them while we're here?"

"Do you even know how to fly?" Qui-Gon asked past his dumbfounded shock at the little one's audacity.

"It can't be that hard right?"

The viceroy and the prince were snickering behind their hands.

"No," Said Qui-Gon, "You cannot fly other people's ships, Obi-Wan."

"Aw," But his padawan did not beg. "They were really nice ships."

"I'm sure they are."

"My son can fly you around, if you want, Padawan Kenobi," The viceroy was still laughing.

"Really?" Obi-Wan grinned, "I would like that."

"Don't encourage him, I beg you," Qui-Gon could not help smirking as he spoke, "I think this young rascal is rambunctious enough as it is."

Obi-Wan frowned at the term, not sure what it meant but certain it was not something complimentary, while the viceroy's wife insisted, "You have not seen 'rambunctious', Master Jedi, until you've seen what our Bail was always up to when he was your little one's age. Little boys will be little boys."

A silence somehow descended, quiet enough that when Obi-Wan's stomach growled, everyone heard it.

"It's like clockwork," Qui-Gon marveled at his blushing child.

"There's our cue!" Said the viceroy's wife, "Bail, would you go call your sisters?"

Qui-Gon bent down to press a kiss on top of Obi-Wan's head. Despite his earlier remark, Obi-Wan had not stepped out of the bounds of a child guest, and seeing the reactions of other people gave him a new perspective of just what kind of youngling he had claimed as his padawan. Obi-Wan's signature hummed with excitement, but for all his enthusiasm he still showed the kind of restraint any Jedi should be proud of.

It was courage, curiosity, coupled with genuine politeness borne from actual consideration of others. These were not attributes every child was born with, or could really cultivate through nurture. Everything about his padawan was honest and true. It must be refreshing for politicians as well, to deal with someone so guileless. Qui-Gon knew that both the prince and the viceroy were far less manipulative with Obi-Wan than they would be with others, and tolerated the boy's sometimes tactless insights with gentle affection.

"I am interested in seeing what kind of man he becomes," Said the prince, as they made their way to dinner. "I know Jedi often frown upon being…less than Jedi, I suppose, but I must ask you, Master Jinn, to consider that perhaps your padawan does not have to lose this aspect of himself."

Qui-Gon knew that the prince would not bother stating this if he were not truly moved by the boy's charm. It was risky, telling a master to his face that the Jedi child-rearing ways might be wrong. He was fortunate that Qui-Gon was not considered an orthodox Jedi.

"I would argue that this was why the Force chose me to train him." Qui-Gon watched as the little one was led off by the girls to a separate room to dine. "As a Jedi, I am not really the best one to train him, but as I told my colleagues, I might be the better one to raise him."

"Raise him well," The prince nodded, "And the training will take care of itself. You can never teach someone everything, but raise them well, and you'll grant them the ability to learn what they need."

Sometimes Qui-Gon is still surprised by how much insight non-Force-sensitives had, especially since despite his best attempts, he still does not always expect them to have any.

* * *

 _"Dare I ask how much fun you two are having?"_ Tahl's voice was a bit wry when he commed her that night. On Coruscant it was early in the morning, before breakfast.

"The boy loves it here," Said Qui-Gon, "He's rather excited, but one can't blame him. He's already stolen the hearts of the Organas, as well as Prince Antilles, and I expect at the princess's birthday banquet next week, he'll be stealing the hearts of all the important figures in Alderaan."

 _"Yoda says to behave yourselves,"_ She replied, _"And I say that too, more to you than to Obi-Wan; Force knows he's better than you. You're a troublemaker."_

Qui-Gon only smirked.

_"Any episodes?"_

"It's evening here, we'll figure out how things go tonight," Qui-Gon sighed, "Hopefully this break will help stabilize everything. If not, I guess we'll have to muddle through."

 _"Well I hope you two enjoy yourselves while you're there,"_ Said Tahl, _"We don't get opportunities to simply relax all that much in our style of life. The trio miss Obi-Wan, they'll want him to contact them at some point."_

"Oh, so you're keeping track of the three remaining youngsters now?"

_"What can I say? They're adorable."_

Qui-Gon chuckled. "Any news to the temple that I should be informed about?"

_"No. We're still looking through the archives, will tell you once we learn anything. Mace told me to warn you that you'll be working extra hard once you're back. Authsola might be returning soon though, you can snatch her for baby-sitting duty."_

"Wonderful." Qui-Gon missed his second padawan. "Tell the council that if she gets sent out before I return, I'll throw a fit they'll never hear the end of."

_"Oh I'm sure I don't need to tell them. Take care, Qui."_

"You too, Tahl."

* * *

Obi-Wan slept curled up next to Qui-Gon that night. Despite being thoroughly worn out from the excitement of the day, sleep was a frightening experience for him, not because of any particular dream, but because the openness of the Living Force on Alderaan was so vast, the world so quiet, that child was rattled and a bit nervous of sleeping alone. The little one had not learned how to reach across the training bond in dreams, and needed the proximity to anchor himself to Qui-Gon the way Qui-Gon had to Obi-Wan that first night.

It was the first time Qui-Gon lied down next to his little one this way—in the past he had always drawn up a chair, but the Jedi Master had been too tired to do so this time. There was a comfort in actually feeling the little body near him, hearing the heavy breathing that came from a child who was sleeping very deeply. He was aware that he was becoming attached, and that he was allowing the boy to become attached to him, but it seemed a small price to pay. _Live in the moment_ , he always said, it was always said to him, others always said, and in the moment he was completely and absolutely content. The Force was satisfied and at peace, his little one was sleeping next to him, and he had the most restful slumber of his own since bonding with his padawan.

Despite this, he was soon roused when he sensed something wrong with the youngster. Obi-Wan burned with a mild fever, and soon woke himself, murmuring that his stomach felt upset.

 _Desynchronosis_ , Qui-Gon knew. Not only did Alderaan have a different sleep cycle, it was also a completely different environment, with different magnetic orientations, all of which could stress the body of a young child. It was not a serious matter, but Obi-Wan was miserable, and Qui-Gon found himself spending about an hour using the Force to soothe the child.

His other padawans had been sick under his care before, but somehow it was different with Obi-Wan, probably because the boy was so young, probably because the boy was so lovable. For Feemor or Authsola, he would have just cured them and be done with that, but for Obi-Wan he stayed awake and watched him. He had that privilege, a privilege that would have been reserved for this boy's true parents, but they had given him up and there was no one to watch over the child for all those years before Qui-Gon came along.

 _One's loss is another's gain,_ Qui-Gon thought, before tucking the boy close to him.

* * *

"Oh this is disgusting," Bail Organa declared, "How can he stand to touch that nerf?"

Nerfs were, Qui-Gon had to admit, unpleasant creatures. They smelled, they drooled, and they were all-around gross. Obi-Wan, true to all young boys, did not care so much about this, instead focusing on the fact that there was a living animal in front of him that had a mind of its own that he did not fully understand. The fever from the previous night had passed, leaving the child good as new by morning.

"He wants to ride the beast." The child did not know how to influence the animal through the Force yet. Qui-Gon was not too worried, however. The creature was tolerating the child the way any animal would when harassed by a smaller, benign being, and the Force did not warn of any danger to his padawan.

"He better get out of those clothes once he's done. There are tons of insects and other nasty things growing under their coats. Even our best efforts can't get them all out."

"Jedi do have spares, sir."

The teen chuckled at this. "Oh, I'm sure. And even if he ruins all of them, we have plenty of spares."

Qui-Gon was so distracted by the conversation that he almost missed when the child abruptly used the Force to persuade the beast to hold still for him—a technique most initiates were not taught.

"Well!" Bail blinked, "Would you look at that! He sat on it."

"He figured it out…" Qui-Gon blinked in surprise. _What do you know?_ He always knew Obi-Wan was intelligent, but he is still always thrilled every time when the youngster accomplishes something unexpected.

"Master!" Obi-Wan waved over at them, "Come here and ride with me!"

"Oh no!" Qui-Gon laughed, "You have fun, little one." He was fond of all living things, but frankly there were creatures he knew better than to approach.

Obi-Wan rode for nearly an hour before coming to them smelling like nerf. After a quick change, the three went hiking, with Bail in the lead. In the wilderness, Obi-Wan behaved as if he were on a sugar high, constantly running off to take a closer look at this and that. It occurred to Qui-Gon that this was perhaps why Alderaan had not been the chosen planet to build the Jedi Temple on, but he could not bring himself to feel true annoyance at his child's exuberance.

Honestly, it made him feel young, just to see the sheer joy his padawan emanated as he took in their surroundings.

Halfway through the hike, they stopped for a quick picnic, where Obi-Wan wrestled with Bail. The boy was considerate enough not to use the Force, and Bail was correspondingly considerate enough not to use his height to his advantage too much. Afterwards, Obi-Wan tested the last of his strength on Qui-Gon, and they completed the rest of the hike with the child exhausted and spent. He had the grace not to complain, but weariness had a way of messing with coordination, and it was not long before the boy fell and sprained his ankle. Qui-Gon ended up carrying the child on his back for the rest of the way to prevent further injury. By the time they arrived at the speeder, the boy was fast asleep.

"You're not like most Jedi Masters," Bail observed, as they gently arranged the child to sleep in the back seats. "Most masters are rather…aloof, to their padawans. I guess it's because they tend to be older, but most don't seem to be all that fond of them either. I always thought they didn't care, that much. It's frankly odd to see you two. You Jedi give the impression that you're…not normal, to put it lightly."

"I suppose most of us try to project that image," said Qui-Gon, "We have ideals we do our best to adhere to." The words sounded bitter on his tongue, but he still said them, "We train the children to die for the galaxy. It does not help to have attachments."

"But you don't agree."

Qui-Gon was not sure how to reply; he had certainly not grown attached to Feemor and Authsola, fond of them as he is. With Obi-Wan, it was just…different. The boy was different, first of all, and their relationship veered in a similar way.

"Obi-Wan…isn't like other younglings." _Not even outside the Order._

"No, he isn't," Said the teen, "I don't think I was nearly as likeable when I was nine years old. He's a sweet kid."

For some reason, these words filled Qui-Gon with a profound melancholy.

"Well, you know what they say," Bail started up the speeder, "It's not the length but the quality. Anything can happen in the future—what matters is we make the most of the present."

 _Funny how even non-Force-sensitives know to live in the moment,_ Qui-Gon thought, turning around to look at his sleeping child.

"He'll be alright," Said Bail, "I don't know about the Force, nor people, really, but I do know that those like him—there is a saying I once read, I don't know from which planet or culture, but it says that for those with good hearts, though they may not meet good turns, are far removed from misfortune, whereas those with evil hearts, though they may not meet misfortune, are far away from good turns. He's a good kid. The Force favors those like him, right?"

Qui-Gon could hardly argue, given that the Force was driving him personally insane in order to protect its darling child.

Odd how he did not mind this at all.

* * *

 

The next day they went to a museum, where Obi-Wan befriended old people while Qui-Gon and the viceroy's son watched across the room.

"What is it about old people and kids?" Bail asked, reminding Qui-Gon of Obi-Wan's question about Yoda. "What kind of astounds me isn't that old people like kids, but kids like old people."

"They do say that the elderly regress and become like children. They connect better, I think."

"That's what's so astounding."

"They're more alike," Said Qui-Gon, "Both less than their prime, two sides of the curve. Vulnerable, similar tempers, lower stamina, and equally distanced from death—the young just emerged into life, and the old are heading back the direction from whence they came. Also, it's reciprocation. Seniors are fond of juniors, so juniors return the favor."

"I suppose," Said Bail.

Obi-Wan was, frankly, enjoying all the attention, but he was handling it gracefully. The youngster's open nature was a reflection on his master, and Qui-Gon found himself the center of interest for many other visitors of the museum. It was decidedly more awkward to talk to people who were not Jedi, however—so much of a Jedi's life revolved around the Force, which none of the others could sense, and it was not long before people left both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan alone simply because they could not understand them.

The boy did not mind this at all, taking the opportunity to side close to his master as they traversed the many rooms.

"Why are there so many naked people?" Obi-Wan asked him, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "Are people on Alderaan naked all the time?"

Bail choked. Qui-Gon honestly had no idea how to answer this question.

"The initiates went on field trips to museums on Coruscant, didn't they?"

"Uh-huh?"

"There weren't any such pictures there? No such sculptures?"

"Well, there are," Obi-Wan said reasonably, "But there are _a lot_ of them in this museum!" He looked at Bail. "But I don't see naked Alderaanians everywhere."

Bail sputtered. "It's—Master Jinn," He turned to Qui-Gon for help, but the Jedi Master was not going to take the blow for him. "It's a study of figure, Padawan. It's to illustrate ideals. It's an artist's job to portray the beauty in everything, including…naked people."

As far as explanations went, it was neither the greatest nor the worst. Obi-Wan seemed to accept this though, and Qui-Gon did not feel like elaborating.

"How come there aren't paintings of naked Jedi at the temple?"

This little one seemed determined to break Qui-Gon's composure.

"I don't know, my padawan," Qui-Gon then added, evilly, "Why don't you ask Master Yoda?"


	10. Building Friendships

Over the next few days before Princess Breha's birthday, Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan to tour the rest of the area. Neither of them suffered any dreams, and Qui-Gon was certain of this because he kept the child close by his side at night and could easily monitor him this way. They visited other officials of Alderaan, where Obi-Wan was able to make friends his age. With the mantle of duty removed for the time being, Qui-Gon was also able to witness how many of the officials were like when they were not engrossed in politics and negotiations. It was nice to see a more civil, honest side to people who tend to be unapproachable in their normal job settings.

Of course, it also helped that Obi-Wan was irresistible. The boy also seemed to have a sense for which adults liked children and which did not, deftly avoiding those who seemed colder in favor of the warmer ones, much to Qui-Gon's amazement. Sometimes the child seemed as incomprehensible and surprising as another species altogether. He also grew an entire inch during his stay on the planet, reminding him woefully that children did not stay so for long.

He had been a bit sad when Feemor was knighted, less so when Authsola was, but he knew he was going to be a complete mess once Obi-Wan completed his training. They grow up so fast! How on earth did Yoda feel, to see student after student pass into the Force while he remained?

 _"Glad to see that you remember us, Qui,"_ Mace's hologram took nothing away from his peeved expression, _"One would think you decided to take your little one and run away from the Order. You're not allowed to do that, by the way."_

"Darn it," Said Qui-Gon, "There goes my plan."

_"How is the bond? The dreams?"_

"Pretty good. It's been a few days, neither of us had any dreams. Then again, there does not seem to be anything dangerous on Alderaan, and Obi-Wan has been making friends and generally having a good time."

_"That's good to hear. Hopefully it holds over when you return. We'll give you a couple of days to readjust, if everything's good then you'll be sent on a mission."_

Qui-Gon blinked. He better remember to take Obi-Wan to Dexter's as soon as they were in Coruscant. "Not a long one, I hope."

 _"Hm!"_ The Korun Master snorted. _"Of course not. Authsola is anxious to meet Obi-Wan, she'll be watching out for him until you return. I see your sinister plot, I do. You chose a youngster so that we can't send you on difficult missions!"_

"You've found me out, Mace," Qui-Gon chuckled. "Thinking about using the same trick?"

_"I'm far too busy for that sort of thing. They were not joking when they said you have no time once you're on the Council. Be glad you're not on it, or you'd have absolutely no time to even contemplate training your little one."_

Qui-Gon chuckled again. "Has anyone found anything while I was gone?"

Mace sighed. _"You have to understand…what you did with Obi-Wan, I mean, the two of you really aren't a good match. We haven't found a master-padawan pairing like that, not from the start. Partnerships, yes, but not a master-padawan pairing."_

"Surely there has been _some_ examples before?"

_"Well, yes, but not successful ones. You do want Obi-Wan to pass the trials, I hope."_

Qui-Gon frowned. "The trials have less to do with skills in the Force and more to do with integrity—you know that as well as I."

_"That doesn't mean skills are completely unnecessary, but that's not entirely what I mean. The masters who did what you did, well, they didn't exactly have the best intentions for their padawan. It's like what we said with the Sith, we found mostly stuff in the Sith holocrons, since the Living Force balances the Unifying Force and vice versa. As you know, such pairings don't end well."_

"What about the phenomenon, _Darsant Avat_?"

Mace was quiet for a moment.

 _"Other than the one you found, no one really found anything else. It's not exactly a cultivated philosophy, this_ Darsant Avat _. Your best bet would be to go to the shamans themselves and ask them yourself, but you know how easy that is."_

"Not easy." The order of the Whills was much more reclusive than the Jedi. They rarely granted audience to those outside their order, unless there was an impending dramatic change in the galaxy, usually in the form of a great catastrophe. Qui-Gon sighed.

_"Well you and your little one are doing fine for now, perhaps all you needed was a break and a change of scenery."_

"I'll take anything at this point, Mace. Thanks for all your help, and pass that along to the others."

_"I will. Take care, Qui, and Force be with you. There's work waiting for you once you get back, so you better make the most of your time."_

"You know I always do." Qui-Gon smiled.

The viceroy and his son had been responsible for keeping track of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan as opposed to the prince, who took that first day off to meet the youngster and then had to see to his court affairs. It was the viceroy who brought in a bag of Alderaan snacks for the little one, though they made sure to keep it a secret. Qui-Gon had a feeling Obi-Wan would not exert that much restraint if he ever realized just how much food Qui-Gon intended to bring back to Coruscant.

"What will happen, Master Jinn?" The viceroy asked as he set the bag down, "Will Obi-Wan Kenobi be weaned off gluttony during his apprenticeship?"

"Definitely," Qui-Gon pulled the bag over to look at the contents, "Just not now."

"Small steps, hm?"

"Well that, and I learned my lesson with Feemor—it helps to have some sort of method to bribe them with when they're older and going through their teenage years."

Organa guffawed at this. "You, my Jedi friend, are a wise, wise man."

* * *

"How old is she turning today?" Obi-Wan asked from next to Qui-Gon in the luxury speeder.

"She's the same age as Bail, correct?"

"She's a few months younger than me, so nineteen," Said Bail. This time, they were being driven by a chaperone, so the young man was sitting across from Obi-Wan.

"Will there be _anyone_ my age?" The boy's voice carried a somewhat plaintive tone.

"Haha, probably," Said the viceroy with good humor, "It's a party, child, so I expect many officials will be bringing their children to the palace."

"A lot of people will be there, right?"

"Oh yes. Most of the core sectors, in fact. You will be meeting many new friends. He's going to get to know all these people a lot earlier than most padawans, isn't he, Master Jinn?"

"You better be on your best behavior," Said Qui-Gon, never mind that Obi-Wan usually was on his best behavior. The youngster nodded emphatically, however.

"There will be a _lot_ of people for a nineteen-year-old princess's birthday," The child observed. "I wonder what that's like?"

"Hm?"

"For so many people to celebrate your birthday. Does she even know everyone? We're going and she definitely doesn't know us. Whenever my friends and I had birthdays, it's just us, and even other initiates we don't know don't bother with anything."

"How do Jedi initiates celebrate?"

"Mostly we hang out," Obi-Wan went on, "Is the princess going to have a lot of gifts? Where is she going to keep them all?"

"The palace is big," Said the young man.

"It'll have to be," Obi-Wan said knowingly. "Are we supposed to bring presents too?"

"No," Said the viceroy, "No, you don't have to. You already gave us a great present beforehand."

"Oh. What was it?"

"It was another Jedi," Said Qui-Gon. "We're here in his stead."

"What did this Jedi do?"

"He settled a dispute." Qui-Gon sent a gentle hint to let the subject drop. Obi-Wan mentally acknowledged this, said "Oh," out loud, and fell quiet for the rest of the trip.

The child kept close to Qui-Gon's side when they entered the palace. Normally a padawan walked two steps behind and to the left of his master, but Obi-Wan was so little that Qui-Gon was afraid someone might snatch him when his own back was turned. It was that bizarre paranoia again, but despite all the security, this social function still presented many opportunities for foulplay, and he would be kidding himself if he insisted on maintaining that the child was his student and nothing more. There would be time, later, when Obi-Wan was actually old enough to join him on missions rather than be left at the temple, for Qui-Gon to instruct him on formal protocols.

For now, he kept a tight grip on the little one's hand, even as he nodded and smiled and bowed his way through various acquaintances, keeping a careful eye on those around him, especially when they were interacting with his padawan.

Obi-Wan was not as extroverted in this setting as he had been when the number of strangers had been limited. The child was a bit overwhelmed by all the attention, and sensed, Qui-Gon suspected, that many of the individuals he was being introduced to were not the most benevolent. Still, he greeted everyone with a sweet smile, and if he did not touch the hearts of everyone, he did not alienate anyone either.

"Your Highness!" He chirped, beaming at Prince Bail, who was likewise smiling at the child with great affection.

"Hello, young padawan," Said the senator, " Master Jinn. I am very happy to see you here. Allow me to introduce my daughter, Princess Breha."

"Happy Birthday!" The child said.

"Thank you, Padawan," The princess curtsied a little, "Thank you both for coming. It is an honor to have you here."

"The honor is ours," Qui-Gon bowed.

"You look really pretty," Obi-Wan told the young lady, completely unaware of how unintentionally charming he was being.

"Thank you, Padawan," Princess Breha smiled wider at the boy. Beside her, Prince Bail was making a visible effort to repress his mirth.

It was almost ridiculous how easily the boy was wrapping people around his tiny finger, all the more amazing because the young rascal was not even trying.

They were led to their seats, planted next to the Corellian senator and a few Alderaanian officials, two of whom brought their children: a fifteen-year-old girl, a seven-year-old boy, and ten-year-old identical twin boys. Obi-Wan had not learned proper dining etiquette and grabbed one of the pieces of spiced bread placed as appetizer before Qui-Gon could stop him.

"Let him," Said one of the officials with a fond grin, "The child is hungry—children don't tolerate hunger well." For a good measure, all the adults took some bread too, and Qui-Gon reminded Obi-Wan to leave some for everyone else. He adjusted the boy's napkin over his lap as the other parents did the same. Strangely, Obi-Wan did not voluntarily introduce himself to the other children, who correspondingly regarded him as if he were an unknown species.

When it became clear that the children were not going to interact on their own, the adults introduced them and switched seats to allow the youngsters to sit next to each other. The fifteen-year-old girl had an omnipresent scowl on her face, which was no wonder given her choice of companions. The seven-year-old boy was scared of Obi-Wan, while the ten-year-old twins, showing their breeding, began to pick on the padawan's strange hairstyle, despite their parents' remonstrations. Obi-Wan endured all of this with as much grace as one could expect from a nine-year-old; his Jedi training prevailed in that he managed to ignore the taunts impassively, but he was annoyed enough that he did not reach out to anyone.

 _He knew,_ Qui-Gon realized, _That was why he didn't introduce himself to the other children._ It might be blasphemous to believe in magic, considering to many, the Force _is_ magic, but the Jedi Master was past explaining his little one. _That's it. Obi-Wan is magic._

Bail Organa was sitting next to his fiancé, but arranged marriages had a way of making things incredibly awkward for the couple involved. It was not long before he and his sisters actually sought out Obi-Wan, partially to break the ice with the princess, partially to show off the youngster to their friends. The food had yet to arrive—the banquet consisted of a long four-hour performance in honor of the princess, so everyone was still milling about the hall. Obi-Wan eagerly went with them, while Qui-Gon forced himself to remain seated—having a Jedi Master mingle among adolescents and young adults would sour any situation, and he also wanted to prove to himself that he did not lose his marbles over the youngster. He could keep an eye on the child from his seat at the table well enough, and Alderaan had proven itself to be a safe sanctuary.

Once away from the table, Obi-Wan's end of the bond brightened considerably. A few minutes later, one of the palace representatives approached Qui-Gon to ask if he would like to sit with the royal family instead.

"Their Highnesses are especially fond of Padawan Kenobi, and would like to know if you would be agreeable to moving?"

 _What did I tell Tahl?_ "Oh, certainly." This would allow Obi-Wan to enjoy himself and allow Qui-Gon to keep him close. Or keep close to him. Either way the master was not giving this up. He bid his tablemates goodbye and followed the representative.

"It hurt a _lot_ ," Obi-Wan was telling the princess, "I wasn't so much scared because it hurt _a lot_ , and it was dark, and I thought I was going to throw up even though I didn't. I heard people calling out my name and that helped because I remembered they were looking for me—I just had to be patient. It seemed like _forever,_ but then the top opened and there was light, and then Master Qui-Gon was looking down at me and I knew I was going to be alright."

Qui-Gon was shown a seat that was a bit distant from where his padawan was entertaining the household, but it was close enough that Prince Bail could lean forward to call over to him.

"Your young one is a brave lad, Master Jinn!"

"That he is," Qui-Gon smiled.

Most of the attention at this table was focused on Obi-Wan, but Qui-Gon could not avoid sharing some as well.

"That must be a horrifying experience," Said one of the officials, "To be buried under debris! Your padawan tells the story like it was a walk in the park."

"That little rascal is too mischievous to be traumatized," The Jedi master said fondly, "Not a few days later he was annoying all the healers by blowing bubbles everywhere while his legs were wrapped in bacta casts. I still don't know how he hid the bottles."

"It's no wonder you chose him so early," Said another.

Food finally arrived, just before the show was to begin, and Obi-Wan went to sit beside Qui-Gon. The child reached out through the Force and surprised an official by suddenly hovering a chunk of nerf meat into the air.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon used a fork to gently bat it back down, "Don't use your telekinesis here. It's rude."

Bail Organa was laughing. "Well there you have a demonstration of the practical uses of Jedi tricks."

"If you want something you can ask for someone to hand it to you," Qui-Gon continued on, feeling a little embarrassed about lecturing his padawan in front of everyone like this. He had lectured Feemor and Authsola before, but not about something so trivial. He never had to, and did not think to for Obi-Wan.

"Sorry," Obi-Wan shrank sheepishly.

"Pass that, would you?" Prince Bail laughed, as Qui-Gon rubbed the boy's shoulder in reassurance—it was his own fault, after all, for not instructing the boy beforehand.

Conversation died down only slightly once the performance began. The little one watched with rapt attention at the colors and music and graceful scenery, for once forgetting that he had to eat. Qui-Gon had to elbow him gently to remind him, occasionally reaching for dishes to put on the child's plate. The other adults looked at the boy and chuckled to each other. Qui-Gon heard bits and pieces of their conversations, _"Little Jedi",_ and _"Too cute"_ usually being mentioned.

The youngster did not notice any of this. Qui-Gon figured he could recount tales of this to a baffled teenage Obi-Wan a few years later. His ignorance somehow served to enhance how tremendous this was, and Qui-Gon found that watching Obi-Wan was far more diverting and heartwarming than any of the performances playing onstage.

Was this what it was like to be a father? Qui-Gon doubted they would ever have such a normal relationship, but it must be close, because he had never felt such tender feelings before. Not even with Tahl.

* * *

 

They went back to the viceroy's estate later that evening, Obi-Wan clutching a list of addresses he was to submit postcards to once he returned to Coruscant. The boy was responsible enough for a nine-year-old, but Qui-Gon was not so far gone that he forgot how easily the youngsters still lost things, and kept the list for him. There were both adults and children on the list, and Obi-Wan might have just become the most popular Jedi in the Order because of this one banquet.

"You have to bring him back," Said the viceroy's wife, "If only to keep the network solid. Have him visit all the Core realms to solidify relations with all the ambassadors he's met today."

Obi-Wan was asleep, head pillowed on Qui-Gon's lap. The Jedi Master smoothed the boy's hair with a nod.

"I think…that will do." There were vipers in politics, of course, but in truth, there were vipers everywhere, and the Core worlds were more structured and easy to navigate than other worlds. If Obi-Wan showed an aptitude for these sectors as he progressed toward knighthood, he would not be sent out to the others where slavery and other filthy practices were rampant. Even someone like Qui-Gon can be vulnerable in such debauched places _,_ and if the Dark Side were actively targeting the child…best keep him away from where the worst of it lurked.

It was not noble of him to feel this way; Obi-Wan was training to be a Jedi Knight, and Jedi Knights should not avoid danger for their own sake, but if the Force loved him so, why should Qui-Gon be any different?

His vision suddenly tunneled in, and he felt like he was sucked into the Force, before an image loomed in front of his eyes. Two cloaked figures, all in dark, the world around them shrouded in darkness. One figure, tall and thin, knelt on one knee and bowed its head.

 _"Speak, my apprentice,_ " Said the one who was still standing, _"What have you to report?"_

 _"I believe,"_ Said the apprentice, and the voice and accent was chillingly familiar, _"I have found the Chosen One."_

Qui-Gon came back to himself as if nothing had happened. The viceroy was still speaking.

"It will certainly help the Jedi to have friends in the Core sectors, yes?"

"Yes," Said his wife.

Qui-Gon rested his hand against the boy's head. _Xanatos…_

* * *

"I want to know how this Telosian governor came in contact with my padawan."

Nautolan expression was not always obvious to humans, especially not through the distorting effects of the hologram, but Kit Fisto definitely looked annoyed. _"It's like everything with you two. He giggled, the governor noticed. At least there's a consistency to things."_

Qui-Gon slapped his forehead.

"What happened? He just walked up to Obi-Wan and started talking to him?"

_"Something like that."_

Why did Obi-Wan trust Xanatos? He showed unusually perceptive instincts at the banquet, and all along Alderaan. Granted, no one was infallible, but this seemed to be an error of massive proportions, if Xanatos was a Sith.

And considering that Qui-Gon's visions came from his padawan, Obi-Wan should have been able to sense that. Or could he?

"He just made friends with the governor, just like that?"

 _"Well if you want to go into the details,"_ The Nautolan knight remarked with some exasperation, _"He didn't like the man, not at first. You know how bold the youngling is—he talked to Sifo-Dyas as if he were another one of his friends. He was pretty shy around Du Crion. The governor_ was _pretty persistent, now that I think of it, and eventually the boy warmed up to him."_

"How long did that take?"

_"Qui-Gon, are you sure you're feeling alright?"_

"Answer the question," Qui-Gon said shortly.

The Nautolan inclined his head. _"He_ did _approach your padawan several times during his stay here, and asked a lot of questions about him, and about you. Once, when he returned, he gave him a blue crystal in the shape of a bachani flower."_

 _Are you serious?_ "Obi-Wan never showed me this crystal."

 _"That's because Master Sifo-Dyas took it from him."_ Kit frowned. _"He didn't tell you all of this?"_

That was not even the most worrying part. "Did no one find it strange that a governor from Telos took such an interest in my padawan?"

_"It wasn't blatant like that, Master Jinn. He heard the child laugh, went up to talk to him, then came away asking if all initiates start off like that. I wasn't there for all of it, but I know that he didn't behave any differently than anyone else. There happened to be other people who came across the child in your absence, Qui-Gon. A nine-year-old padawan who giggles like that does capture one's attention. Qui-Gon, the man is gone. He's gone back to Telos with his lackeys. You can relax. Even if he is a scumbag, I really doubt he'd hurt your little one."_

Qui-Gon knew if he went out and called Xanatos Du Crion a Sith, Kit Fisto would just conclude he had well and truly lost it. Plus, it seemed like the person he should talk to was actually Sifo-Dyas.

Funny how the man never approached him when he returned from the mission. Against everything he had been trained in, Qui-Gon found his temper rising. _How dare he! Did he tell Obi-Wan not to mention the crystal to anyone?_ He was going to have a few words with the master. It did not matter if he was Dooku's best friend—if he thinks he can use his fame and seniority to take advantage of Obi-Wan, then he needs to learn just what it meant to face Qui-Gon Jinn!

_"Uh, Master Jinn, is everything alright? Did you have a bad day today or something?"_

"No, today was a good day." _Except for the vision._ He was going to have to talk to Obi-Wan in the morning, when the child woke up. He was not angry at the boy, but he was…angry, and feeling helpless, because even here on Alderaan where they were supposed to be enjoying themselves and everyone seemed to adore his child, the Dark Side seemed ever-looming, refusing to leave them alone. How does one fight against what is unseen? "Thanks a lot…for answering my questions, Kit. Is Tahl back yet?"

_"No…she'll be back in another couple of minutes."_

"Never mind. I'll talk to her in the morning." Qui-Gon sighed.

_"Maybe you should talk to Master Yoda when you return. The governor was never alone with your little one, but I wouldn't want him anywhere near my padawan either."_

Qui-Gon nodded, part of him soothed by this news. Obi-Wan had been right about this part—the initiates were well-guarded, and the visitors to the temple were always escorted by at least two knights or one master. The only danger for the child had been the attention, not a threat of immediate harm. And…if Xanatos du Crion were a Sith Lord, perhaps Obi-Wan had never been safe to begin with, considering the man had taken the pains to travel all the way from Telos to Coruscant just to find him.

Obi-Wan had taken to sleeping in his own room after a few nights, but tonight the Jedi master was too rattled to place him out of his sights. He tucked the child in with his set of blankets before covering himself with his own. The boy was not a quiet sleeper tonight, making gurgling baby sounds every once in a while as he dreamed. He listened to the child beside him in the darkness.

He honestly could not wait until they felled whatever threatened his padawan.


	11. Accounts

Obi-Wan was sad to leave Alderaan and all the new friends he made, but while the child whined a little and fussed slightly with displeasure, he was excited to see his friends at the temple again. Qui-Gon was anxious to introduce him to Authsola, who was very delighted to meet him.

"Aren't you a fine young padawan!" The girl cooed. "Well it's easy to see why Master Qui-Gon was so eager to claim you. You are one very fortunate padawan, little one. You can't ask for a better master."

Qui-Gon left Obi-Wan with Authsola so he could discretely hide all the Alderaanian snacks somewhere the boy would not find all of them. As he expected, she grew fond of the young boy quickly, and when he returned from hiding the food, his two padawans were engrossed in what Obi-Wan announced as a game of "pull-feather".

"Just don't break anything," The master warned, and the knight gave a distracted grunt of assent. He paused to sense if he felt any sense of danger from her, but like Feemor, he felt nothing.

"I need to talk with someone," He told the two, "You two take care of each other."

"Alright, Master!" Obi-Wan's face was pinched in concentration.

Qui-Gon chuckled at their tug-of-war with the Force, before sliding out of the apartment.

Sifo-Dyas was in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, meditating. Usually it was rude to interrupt, but it was also rude to interfere with someone else's padawan without permission, and Sifo-Dyas had done that twice already.

To his credit, the elder master was roused from his trance as soon as Qui-Gon took his place in front of him.

"I think we have a problem," Qui-Gon stated flatly.

His master's best friend smiled faintly at him. "I like you, Qui-Gon," He said, "You don't let yourself get pulled by other people's expectations. That's a hard trait to come by."

"Yes, well, I also don't really care if you like me or not," Said the younger master, "I would care slightly more about whether or not you _respect_ me, especially when it comes to matters concerning my padawan."

"This is because of that Telosian governor, isn't it?" Sifo-Dyas gestured for him to sit down. Qui-Gon merely folded his arms and remained standing. "I remember when you were still Dooku's padawan. It seems like only yesterday. How fast time flies."

"I know, right?" Qui-Gon returned sarcastically, "And here I am, with my third padawan. Let's talk about him, since you can't seem to keep away from him. I'm going to go right ahead and ask: do you have designs on Obi-Wan?"

Sifo-Dyas chuckled, "And I will go right ahead and answer, I have no intention of harming your little one."

There was truth in that statement, so Qui-Gon relaxed a little. "You spoke to my padawan that day, in the dining hall. What made you approach him?"

The other Jedi looked away. "Many things. Curiosity, for one—how one youngster among many caught your attention when he caught no one else's, and why; a disturbance in the Force, one which most other Jedi seem unaware of, including you; and frankly, a lack of better things to do at the time."

"What disturbance in the Force?"

Sifo-Dyas looked at him. "The swirl of the Dark Side. It roused. Something inspired its appetite."

_This again._

"Most Jedi are so ensconced in the Light," The other went on, "That they don't even realize what the Dark Side is doing. And that's alright, because the Light is beautiful, and the Dark Side, it eats at you. One's mind is a rather delicate thing, and touching the Dark Side is dangerous for the strongest of us. Those of us trained in the Unifying Force are not biased with either side, however, which is why I was able to sense the sudden activity."

"What about Yoda? He is strong in the Unifying Force as well."

"Master Yoda is a wise Jedi, but there are things he does not know that others know, simply because such knowledge is not for him to partake. He might have sensed the disturbance as well, but he might not have connected it to your little one, and even if he did, he is far too old, too experienced to go so far as to act upon it like I have." Sifo-Dyas smiled a little. "I am not young, but I am young enough to indulge in some impulsiveness. Master Yoda is nearly nine hundred years old. He has no excuses. He is far too important a figure, a symbol, to do anything trivial. It is why he loves children so—they are young and their problems are small, and he can escape from the gravity of the galaxy to immerse in their little dynamics, though one can argue that training the younglings is in fact the most crucial duty a Jedi can accept."

"I don't understand why the Dark Side mobilized because of Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon shook his head, "He is light, yes, he is joy and cheer, we all know that, but why the attention? You know what happened with that twi'lek."

"The one in the coma," Said Sifo-Dyas. "Yes, I have heard."

"She knew his _name._ "

"The Dark Side is powerful. We are so confident in the Light, we often forget that the Dark is an equal power, even if it is opposite. Your little one might be but an individual, but it is the actions of individuals that shape the galaxy. This fact is not lost with the Force. The Dark Side has its own powers, powers strictly of the Dark and its users, just as the Light Side have our own secrets and skills exclusive to us. But more than this, what most people forget, whether you believe in the Living Force or in the Unifying Force, is that in either case, Light and Dark are connected, simply by virtue of occupying the same space and time. The changes of one side inevitably influence the other, and not always in contrasting ways. Sometimes as one side grows stronger, the other does as well. In the case of Padawan Kenobi, by forming a bond with you, he has cemented his place as a Jedi. When such a significant individual locks in his niche, the Dark Side predictably responds in some way."

"I agree that Obi-Wan is a unique child, but I don't understand why everyone thinks he's significant for some reason. Special does not always mean important, but you said he was as good as the Chosen One."

"Did I?" Sifo-Dyas raised his eyebrows infuriatingly, "How curious…so I did. Why is anyone important? That is not the question you should ask. What you should wonder is, knowing that you are in charge of a very significant individual, what should you do?"

Qui-Gon sat down then.

"Just what am I supposed to protect him from?" He demanded, "And how am I supposed to train him if he's being attacked by everyone?"

"You're reacting the way a Living Force user would," Sifo-Dyas shut his eyes. "It's not that kind of danger, not from what I can sense. The Dark Side loves in its own twisted way, and your padawan's life has never been in any real peril. The true conquest of darkness is the soul, in the choices that a person makes that would lead to his own ruin. There is a rather simple, yet profound way for your padawan to resist that."

"What?"

"He has to cling to the light."

Qui-Gon was seriously contemplating hitting him for such a useless remark, but Sifo-Dyas then amended, "More than that, he has to feel that the light is clinging to him, that it wants him. Many Jedi…lose sight of that in times of trial. They feel that the light has forsaken them, abandoned them, and so they turn to the Dark that clearly wants them, no matter how foul its purposes. This is where you come in, Master Jinn. Someone like Obi-Wan… _needs_ love. His choices affect so much of the galaxy, so much of the Force, that if he were to go astray, it would be disastrous for the rest of us. If his light burns out, no hope is left. The only thing that can fuel that light, is love."

"Love is not the Jedi way."

"No it isn't," Sifo-Dyas agreed, "But you are not quite a Jedi, are you? You are Jedi in name, Jedi in fundamentals, but you are, more than anything, a lover of Life, of the Force, of all things that live in it. It showed, through your propensity to take in those "pathetic life-forms" Dooku always complained about, your ability to connect with sentients and non-sentients, great and small, and your steadfast belief that the Jedi Code is not the ultimate code. You were not chosen so that you can meet the child's enemies with a lightsaber, or even to teach the child how to meet his enemies with his own lightsaber. You were chosen as a haven for the boy to retreat to, an anchor for him to cling to, a personification of the love the Light Side has for him. You are meant to shelter him, to nurture him, to raise him." He paused. "I suspect you know this already."

Of course Qui-Gon did. "But why do I feel like danger is omnipresent? It lurks among those I see as friends, among those I trusted with my life."

"Because it does," The other master replied simply, "The ones you are wary of happen to be those who would challenge the integrity of your affection for your padawan. I think many of these individuals you speak of have already brought up objections to your attachment to him, yes? They want to separate you two, in the name of the Jedi Code, and dilute the strength of your emotional closeness. The Force wants you to love your padawan, and your padawan to love you, and that love is to be the primary shield from the Dark Side. The Jedi forbid love. Is it so odd that the Force regards the Jedi as a danger?"

 _He is right…_ Qui-Gon realized. Even Tahl had been less supportive than she normally was. The only ones who were not so dangerous were Feemor and Authsola, because there was no way his former padawans would question him when they themselves were so fond of Obi-Wan, and definitely when Qui-Gon had been the one to train them, and they looked up to him. Everyone else, however, had their doubts, and doubt weakens any relationship.

"What about you?" He then asked bluntly. "Why does the Force depict you as a danger as well?"

"I suspect it is because I am," Said Sifo-Dyas, "Perhaps in a more literal sense. You saw your padawan's death connected to me." _Of course Plo would actually tell him this,_ Qui-Gon thought with annoyance, "There are many kinds of dangers, as you know. Just because one danger is greater does not mean the others don't exist."

"But you do not seek to harm my padawan." It was rude, and Qui-Gon regretted uttering that aloud as soon as he spoke.

"No." Sifo-Dyas seemed unaffected.

Qui-Gon shook his head. "How do I tell if the danger is literal or figurative?"

"I expect as a Living Force user, you would know that better than me."

Perhaps. Now that he knew what to look for, he could direct his meditations better.

"And Xanatos."

"What about him?"

"He gave something to Obi-Wan. You took it from him. Why did you not tell me that this happened? He did not mention this to me either."

"I suspect he simply forgot about the incident."

Given Obi-Wan's perchance to forget anything unpleasant, this was very likely.

"And you?"

"There was nothing to say." Sifo-Dyas reached into the folds of his tunic and took out the crystal. It was dark cerulean _,_ the shape of a flower from Telos, just as Kit had said. "It's normal. I checked."

Qui-Gon took it. "Why did he give this to Obi-Wan?" Sifo-Dyas was right; there was no bug on it, and it was not a Force-sensitive crystal.

"I suspect it is simply to generate good will," Said the elder master, "And it worked, I believe. I recommend you train your little one to follow his initial instincts. Children often doubt their own judgment, even when it's correct."

The younger master frowned. "Is Xanatos Du Crion a Sith?"

"Maybe."

"Should we tell the Council?"

"If we both mention this, the Council will take action, but I would advise against this."

"Why?"

"Because as much of a youngling as you consider your padawan, he is no longer an initiate, thanks to you. Initiates are not yet Jedi, they are candidates, and therefore are not obligated to die for the Order or the galaxy. Padawans, on the other hand, are Jedi. As such, he is expected to uphold the fundamental duties of all Jedi. If the governor is a Sith, and if he is indeed interested in your little one, the Council will not consider Kenobi to be a child to be protected. They will consider him to be a Jedi, young, but still a Jedi, and required, as all Jedi are, to sacrifice in the name of the greater good."

"They wouldn't send _Obi-Wan_ as bait, would they?" Qui-Gon scowled, recalling Mace's words when they first accosted Servathi. He now wondered if he should have taken those remarks more seriously.

"If you speak to them individually, they would not encourage this course of action," Sifo-Dyas said wisely, "But the Council as a whole must look out for the interests of the Order and the galaxy. They cannot act like a single individual. They will behave as a larger entity, whose actions have greater consequences, and it would not be the first time they sent a padawan to his death."

"But those padawans are older."

"How much older? To someone like Master Yoda, do you think a fifteen-year-old is any less of a child than a nine-year-old? To an entity as old as the Council, that has lasted for thousands of years, are any of us mortal beings old enough to die?"

And even Yoda had sent such padawans to their deaths before. Not intentionally, but not entirely accidentally either. Qui-Gon realized that the danger he sensed from the other Jedi was even more complicated than what Sifo-Dyas had pointed out at first.

 _They may not want to harm him, but they won't hesitate to put him in harm's way, if it seems to buy a worthy benefit. In the name of what the Jedi aim to do, to maintain peace in the galaxy…a person would not sacrifice a child, but an Order would._ Just as a person might not send hundreds of soldiers to their deaths, but a planet would. The Jedi Council had similar priorities. They would be obligated to fulfill these priorities at the expense of an individual. _  
_

"But if he is a Sith Lord, I cannot in good conscience ignore him just to protect my padawan."

"That is the bliss of ignorance, isn't it?" Sifo-Dyas remarked wryly, "You do not know if he is a Sith Lord, and I can tell you, you wouldn't know, not unless you seek him out and place your child in danger. All you know is that he is dark—you do not even know if he is a Force user."

Qui-Gon scowled. "How would you know that?" How did Sifo-Dyas know what Qui-Gon did not know? Did the master see his vision, or something?

"Because even I don't know," Sifo-Dyas said easily, "And I've been watching the governor. Your little one is strong, Master Jinn, but right now, I am still stronger in the Unifying Force."

Fair enough. "So I should just cover my eyes and let this be? Allow the danger to grow for my own selfish reasons? That is not the Jedi way."

"You were not chosen to follow the Jedi way."

Qui-Gon exhaled, feeling conflicted.

"The Jedi are not always right," The elder master went on, "There is a reason for this, as always. Obi-Wan's life is, for whatever purpose, more important than the death of a Sith. If you trust nothing else, trust that."

"Easier said than done."

"Ah, but a Jedi's life is not meant to be easy, is it?" Sifo-Dyas smiled. "Nor is the life of any man. The Force is strong with you, and with your little one. The Living Force and the Unifying Force do share one thing in common: if you are meant to know or do something, the Force will come to you—you do not have to work so hard to seek it out. You are warned that the governor might be dark, and to watch yourselves with him. I have no doubt that he and Obi-Wan might cross paths again. That will come in its own time. There is no reason for you to go looking for trouble."

"And what about the other Jedi? How am I supposed to defend against _them?_ "

"By being yourself, I would expect," The elder Jedi chuckled, "That is certainly not new for you."

* * *

 

Qui-Gon kept silent about Xanatos. He also kept silent about Obi-Wan, going as far as to lie about the condition of their bond and saying that it no longer brought him any trouble. This convinced everyone except Tahl and Yoda, but neither of the two pressed the matter, and Qui-Gon wagered that the diminutive master actually knew what was going on, but was deliberately turning a blind eye. It occurred to Qui-Gon that the Grand Master turned a blind eye to a lot of things, especially those related to master and padawan relationships, only offering counsel when sought by either the master or the padawan. It is, no doubt, why Master Yoda is so influential when he does get involved.

The good news was Obi-Wan stopped having nightmares after the vacation in Alderaan, a fact that was definitely to be celebrated, if only in private. After meditating, Qui-Gon began discerning the different kinds of threats to his padawan, and his over-protectiveness lessened considerably after that. This, of course, also helped with the murmurs of disapproval. "Sane, you have become," Mace once joked, "That took you long enough."

As expected of any youngster, Obi-Wan had a hard time getting back to the routine of classes and homework, though as a nine-year-old this was an easier transition than if he were older. Qui-Gon quickly took the boy to Dexter's where the little one gawked openly at the thoroughly amused chef. He did not hesitate to wrap Dexter around his finger like he did with anyone worth talking to, and Qui-Gon was fairly certain that the discount they got was entirely because of Obi-Wan. "You got yourself a good youngling," Dexter slapped Qui-Gon heavily on the shoulder, "You be sure you train him good! You mess him up, Qui-Gon, I'll kick your butt, and none of your training's going to spare you from how much your butt's going to hurt! Ho ho!"

Obi-Wan naturally appreciated that gesture much more than Qui-Gon did.

It was not long before, as Mace warned, Qui-Gon was sent away on a mission, with the boy thankfully left under Authsola's care. To prevent any incident like that of Xanatos, he warned the little one not to talk to any strangers while he was away. The boy was smart enough to be skeptical about just how plausible this was, but Qui-Gon told him that he was to obey this order over any inclination to be polite and civil. It was possible that the little rascal agreed partially because his master was giving him permission to be rude. Obi-Wan did have an insightfully playful perspective on things, as he had demonstrated before.

"You are to come right back to Authsola after classes," Qui-Gon instructed him, "If you want to play with your friends, report to her first, and if possible, bring her along. You're a very young padawan, my child, so you have to be much more diligent than either other initiates or padawans, understand? If something happens to you, I'll be too far away to help, so we have to make sure nothing happens to you."

Thankfully his neurotic instructions only served to annoy the boy, not scare him, but like all Jedi younglings, Obi-Wan was trained to be obedient, and Authsola, understanding her master was especially worried about the child, even if not the exact reasons, promised to watch out for him with extra care. "It would be like practice, for when I have my own padawan," She announced brightly, and Qui-Gon allowed her to think that.

* * *

Things settled down.

Qui-Gon went on missions, many of them diplomatic, while Obi-Wan stayed either with Authsola or with Feemor, or at the créche if neither of the knights were available. Whenever he went away, he would comm. the child twice, once in the morning and once in the evening to check on the boy. When he was at the temple, he would take the little one to the training salles for some private tutoring, meditate with him in the gardens, and help him with his homework. There were a few more incidents with Bruck Chun, some involving his friend Aalto, but with a few pointed recommendations from Qui-Gon, most of the time Obi-Wan was able to avoid them. As promised, he requested frequent leaves to take Obi-Wan to visit various core systems in the name of educating his padawan without stressing the boy out, an act that inspired a bit of resentment from the other Jedi, but a surprising amount of support from Yoda. Since the Grand Master himself often argued in Qui-Gon's favor, no one else could say anything, and Obi-Wan's situation was, indeed, unique, in that he was so young and had so much growing to do before he reached his adolescent years.

Before he knew it, Obi-Wan was turning ten.

"When did this happen?" Qui-Gon complained to Tahl, "I thought he wasn't going to turn ten for another eight months."

"That was when you first claimed him as your padawan, Qui."

"Where did all those months go?"

Tahl did not seem to understand that he was much more distressed this time around than before, with Feemor and Authsola. "Time does not wait, and neither does the Force. Do you have any spare sewing needles?"

Obi-Wan wound up with a lot of gifts from all the friends he made on Alderaan and the corresponding planets he visited since the banquet, most of them more practical for a normal ten-year-old rather than a Jedi-in-training. Qui-Gon and Mace expected the boy to be overly delighted over all the presents, but the child was actually more bewildered and intimidated than anything else.

"What am I supposed to do with all this, Master?" He asked as he sifted through shirts he would never wear, toys he would never play with, funny figurines and an occasional book. Qui-Gon managed to hide some of the candy someone sent his apprentice before the child could get to it, but Obi-Wan found the rest and gleefully announced he was going to share it with his friends. Knowing the group as he did by this time, Qui-Gon hoped Reeft would end up with most of them. "Will I have to give _them_ presents on _their_ birthdays?"

"Hahaha!" It was the first time Qui-Gon witnessed Ki-Adi Mundi lose his composure. "What a delightful youngling!"

"If you don't need these," Adi Gallia suggested to the little one, "You can donate them to Child Services. There are plenty of younglings in the galaxy who don't have toys and spare clothes, or candy."

Obi-Wan agreed to this, though he was keeping the sweets; it would be a little too much to ask the boy to give up those.

"What _should_ we do?" Qui-Gon asked Mace and Tahl, since Obi-Wan's popularity was, while not entirely unexpected, rather unprecedented—usually Jedi Knights and Masters get a gift or two from grateful friends they had made on their missions, but these did not require reciprocation. The Jedi Order had a cumulative wealth, but individual wages were meager.

"We don't want to start some kind of trend," Mace nodded, "Writing cards is relatively inexpensive and should be well within your budget. What in the galaxy did you two _do_ on Alderaan?"

It was worth the headache, though, because Obi-Wan had never had so many friends think of him before, and though he was not so appreciative of the material value of any particular gift, he was very happy about being remembered. If Yoda thought this would inspire self-centered egotism, the Grand Master did not say anything. It was probably hard to, given that Obi-Wan offered some of his precious sweets to the old Jedi and all the masters he saw—when he remembered, anyway. Qui-Gon wondered if this kind of generosity was in fact something a person was born with. He certainly did not teach Obi-Wan this, and Feemor and Authsola never demonstrated the same tendency, despite being raised by the same Créche Masters.

Even with the presents and the well-wishes, Obi-Wan's birthday was like any other day when Qui-Gon was not sent on a mission. He went to classes, trained in the training salles with Qui-Gon, and did his homework. The two went to the meditation gardens together, though instead of meditating Qui-Gon ended up playing with Obi-Wan. and they headed back to their apartments rather sweaty and spent.

 _"You should request some time, my friend. M _en like us have to slow down a little, allow the young ones to do the legwork. There comes a time when warriors must sit down and simply offer what advice they can.__ "

Qui-Gon froze, pulling Obi-Wan close to him. The child had grown over the months, but was still small enough for him to tuck against him. The child looked up at him silently, sensing his unease.

 _I never told Sifo-Dyas what he said to Dooku,_ Qui-Gon thought, as he approached the intersection of the hall much more carefully.

 _"Ah, well, I keep thinking that the more we do the less they have to. You know me. Besides, I see_ you _haven't slowed down at all."_

_"No, you are quite right. Well, I am glad to see you here. How was your mission?"_

_"Quite dull, actually. You know my temperament. I suppose given how things could have gone, I should be thankful for the sheer lack of excitement."_

_"You know it, my friend."_

Qui-Gon drew the Force around him and around his little one and pulled them against the wall.

"Master?" Obi-Wan whispered. Qui-Gon softly hushed him.

_"How is my former padawan doing? Do you know?"_

_"Quite well, last I saw. His little one is the talk of the temple, as I'm sure you know by now."_

_"Indeed? What was the child's name, Obi-Wan? I should like to meet him, see what has everyone in such a fuss."_

_"I'm sure you'll get your chance. Are you looking for Master Yoda?"_

There was a brief hesitation.

_"Not right this instant, but he's certainly on my list of agendas. Will you walk with me, my old friend?"_

_"Of course. We have a lot to catch up on…"_

Qui-Gon listened to the footsteps drift away. When the voices faded, he released a slow breath and looked down at the young one. Obi-Wan was frightened by his admittedly poor handling of the situation.

"I'm sorry little one," He told the child, wondering at his actions. It was not as if he could protect Obi-Wan from Dooku's scrutiny should the master seek him out, as he seemed to be doing. Besides, that shadow he saw around Dooku in the dream was not present in real life, even if Sifo-Dyas' remarks had been word-for-word.

 _He could just get in the way,_ Qui-Gon thought, rubbing the boy's arm soothingly, _He could be_ that _kind of danger._ The one where he tries to interfere with Qui-Gon's bond with his child. Yet it did not seem so…and did not quite warrant hiding from the Jedi altogether.

 _We can't hide all the time. We have to face the Dark once in a while._ He was use to keeping Obi-Wan away from dangerous situations, but the boy was growing and full of surprises to begin with. Here in the halls, Dooku could hardly raise a finger against a child, and Qui-Gon was not due for any mission yet. He could keep a close eye on the boy.

"Master?" Obi-Wan inquired uncomfortably.

"Let's go back to our quarters," Qui-Gon took his hand. The little one followed with no more questions. _  
_


	12. The First Mission

At ten years old, Obi-Wan had "leveled up", at least according to the little rascal and his friends. This meant he was now given responsibilities and a limited amount of freedom, though with Dooku in the temple, there turned out to be more of the former than the latter. As Tahl had predicted, Qui-Gon wasted no time introducing the boy to the culinary arts, something Obi-Wan seemed to have conflicting feelings about, and he also introduced an allowance, something the boy had more certain feelings about. The brat also wanted to learn how to fly, but Qui-Gon vehemently swore that there will be no lessons until the boy turned fifteen. His own padawans had spared him the headache in the past, but he had seen enough of what happened with other masters to know just how dangerous it could be for a ten-year-old to attempt to navigate the skies of Coruscant. Force or no, Obi-Wan was not touching any of the ships.

"You and your padawan are being dispatched to Nar Shaddaa," Adi Gallia informed Qui-Gon as she kept her eyes focused on the details on her datapad.

"Nar Shaddaa?" Qui-Gon exclaimed in disbelief, "Are you serious?"

"Ye—er, no, sorry," Adi Gallia scrolled up, "Wrong master-padawan pair."

"That's more like it." Nar Shaddaa was the Smuggler's Moon, or one of the most convoluted places in the galaxy. It was no place to delegate the efforts of a ten-year-old padawan. "Don't do that! You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry," The other master murmured apologetically, "Er, you're actually routed to Corellia. I'm…It's the Diktat, some conflict about humane business practices—I'll leave you to read up the details. Maybe you should leave Padawan Kenobi on Coruscant again."

At ten years old, Obi-Wan was still very young for a padawan, but old enough to partake in some more peaceful missions, though given the nature of certain systems, this could be hard to gauge. Corellia was a rather high-profile planet, however, and if they invited Jedi aid for negotiations, it probably was actually for negotiations and would not descend to violence and chaos. At the moment, the only danger to the child seemed to be boredom.

On the other hand, Obi-Wan had better friends on Corellia than Qui-Gon.

"Aren't you supposed to know the mental processes of their selection?" Qui-Gon asked dryly, "You don't know why the Council assigned us this mission?"

"Well…I do," Adi said in the same tone, "But you're not going to like it."

Him not liking things tended to revolve around Obi-Wan. "You mean they want to use my padawan somehow? Cute his way into making the Diktat cooperate?"

"Yes, that is exactly it."

"I was joking."

"Oh. That's…unfortunate, because that's still exactly it."

Qui-Gon stared. She was serious.

"Do you have _any_ idea how much this sounds like a holo-sit-com?"

"Try looking from my end."

"Well if Obi-Wan's intended role is to be charming," Qui-Gon shrugged, "There are worse ways to use a youngling, I suppose."

"They noticed that the core planets were very fond of the child," Said Adi, "Which might help soothe tempers. We'll see. The Council also is contemplating letting you go on 'vacation' in other sectors."

"His charm only works on good people, or at least sophisticated people," Qui-Gon murmured, distracted. "The boy closes up around those who don't like kids or who wouldn't be nice to him."

"Ah…"

"It's a helpful ability—I can judge people using the Kenobimeter if my connection to the Force ever wavers."

"Hm!" Adi thought this over. "You two are very strange. Nonetheless, we do want to utilize his 'charm' while he's still young. The other sectors of the galaxy aren't as safe, so it's possible that your 'vacations' may consist of other Jedi."

 _Most fussed over padawan ever._ Not that Qui-Gon was complaining. Obi-Wan had to go on active duty at some point, even if he really would like to extend that period where the boy could be safely kept at the temple, and this was an acceptable way to transition the child to his role as a Jedi. Plus, this gave him reason to avoid Dooku.

There was nothing inherently wrong with the Jedi Master that he could sense, other than that obscure feeling of dread whenever the thought of the him and Obi-Wan together inspired. The most telling part was that Obi-Wan was not too thrilled with meeting Dooku either, even when the boy learned that the man was Qui-Gon's own master. The boy did not understand it, but Qui-Gon encouraged him to trust his feelings, and made sure never to allow Dooku to be alone with his padawan. He was not sure how well he succeeded—it could be that the events of the dream had already taken place and Dooku had already touched the boy, but Qui-Gon knew that the encounter was really the least of his worries. Better take Obi-Wan off Coruscant and try to convince the Council to send Dooku on another mission before returning.

On that point…"You're not sending Master Dooku with us, are you?"

Adi gave him a guarded look. "We haven't decided yet. Why?"

"He makes my padawan nervous," Qui-Gon said, which was true and an elegant way to avoid saying that Dooku made _him_ nervous, but given that he had just talked about the Kenobimeter not seconds before, the line lost much of its subtlety.

"Do you have anyone in mind?"

Tahl would be good. So would Kit. Neither of them were particularly vocal about how close he was to his padawan. Mace would be no real threat, but he would have a lot to say about many things, and already demonstrated the complete lack of decorum when it came to criticizing his padawan like the boy was not there to hear every word being said. His former apprentices would be fine too, but Qui-Gon harbored no illusions about the likelihood of that.

"I know Padawan Kenobi is fond of Kit," The other master mused, "And Kit is fond of him. I'll see if he can be assigned."

* * *

 

"I don't understand what we're supposed to do," Kit said as he read over the files, "The situation seems a bit ludicrous. They need Corellian imports but they refuse to accept them until Corellia modifies its policies. The Diktat won't modify their laws just because they were told."

Qui-Gon was busy explaining the more convoluted aspects of the mission to his young padawan. The boy was bright, but the mission was proving to be too much information at once. He could sense the child growing frustrating with his inability to comprehend and soothingly rubbed his back. "Don't worry," He insisted, "I'm also not explaining things very well. It's a bit confusing for me too."

"You're not the only one," Kit grumbled. He pushed the basket on the table toward the boy. "Have a cookie." For a good measure, he took one himself.

Qui-Gon was thinking that despite the peaceful nature of the mission, it might be too complicated for a ten-year-old to grasp, especially if he was busy trying to figure out what the problem was himself. At first glance it looked like a case of a large planet employing cheap labor to produce goods, which was putting other companies out of business, but the planet was allowing cheap labor because they had a large supply of workers and increasing wages would lower their marginal revenue dangerously. Employing minimum wage laws would raise unemployment, but the other planets in the sector were demanding such an implementation.

"This frankly doesn't look like anything the Jedi should stick our noses into. I'm no economist."

"I don't think that's the issue," Qui-Gon said wryly. "There's something they're not telling us. They obviously want a solution but neither side is budging. This is odd behavior for diplomats unless there is something they're not saying."

"Well, we'll have to figure out what it is then." Kit looked at Obi-Wan, who was chewing noisily. Ten years old and the child could still forget everything else while he eats. Qui-Gon wondered if he had been one of those infants who would throw everything aside and kick back when given a bottle. The youngster was so engrossed, he did not notice the two older Jedi staring at him.

"Well free market trades…low government involvement, for Corellia it looks like their motives are straight-forward."

_Munch munch munch._

Qui-Gon lost it; he snickered, covering his mouth with his hand. Kit also grinned. It made him regret putting an end to this, but it was pretty distracting. "I think Obi-Wan's had enough cookies for the moment, Kit."

"Aw," The Nautolan slid the basket away. There was a pang of disappointment from Obi-Wan, but the boy did not complain.

They read over the rest of the files, but it was all along a similar vein. Soon enough, Obi-Wan's admittedly considerable attention-span ran out, so Qui-Gon released him to go play with his friends.

"Must be different," Kit mused, "Having a padawan so young. They grow out of this phase by the time they're twelve, right? Start becoming annoying and unstable."

"It's different for different initiates. My first two padawans were both very quiet. Feemor had a passive attitude towards things, very intelligent but not particularly curious, come to think of it. He'd learn what you teach him but he wouldn't go out of his way to ask questions."

Yoda had not been appreciative of Obi-Wan's rather loud inquiry about the paintings in the temple; the little rascal had asked this in front of the Chancellor and several key members of the Senate, having momentarily forgotten that such subjects were not discussed in front of polite company because they had been so blatantly displayed at the museum in Alderaan. After something of a tongue-lashing from the Grand Master, Qui-Gon gently told the child that just because museums displayed such things did not mean they fit in all conversations.

As bashful as his youngling had been at the time, he was nowhere as embarrassed as Yoda. _Set him up, you did! Set me up, you did! Mischievous young ones…_

Mace and Tahl had nearly died laughing.

"Authsola is female," Qui-Gon went on, "She had an even gentler temper, though she was a bit more aggressive with her curiosity. They both had very calm dispositions. Depa Billaba had fits of temper now and then when she was a padawan, I think. They were rare, and Mace usually saw to it that they end very very quickly."

"I was the epitome of a padawan," Kit stated.

"No you weren't," Qui-Gon returned dryly, "I remember when Yoda was training you."

"…You do?"

"What, do I look like I've got long-term memory loss? I remember you detected all sorts of stuff like who was getting excited and who had a hormone spike…and then said it out loud. Except you weren't cute like Obi-Wan, you were trying to cause trouble for Yoda on purpose."

"Blasphemy! I never did that, you weren't there, you couldn't have known."

"I was there once." Sometimes Qui-Gon was quite happy that he was no longer considered young.

"You were."

"Yes."

"When were you 'there', exactly?"

"That Hatawa representative, a Marais male, I believe. You announced to everyone at large that he was in heat."

Kit uttered a curse. "Why would you remember that?"

"Why would I _forget_? What did Yoda do to you, by the way? I was very curious about that."

"He took me to an orphanage," Kit replied morosely.

Qui-Gon was not sure what he was expecting, but it certainly was not that, and the knight looked disturbed enough that he decided not to press after all. It might be more unpleasant than entertaining.

"He was actually pretty lenient with me. I've heard stories of masters who were far more strict. Yoda probably knew I would grow out of it. He said once that Nautolans need to get use to all the readings we get and sometimes it messes with our feelings when we go through our own maturation stage."

"Yoda is a wise master," Qui-Gon nodded. It had been fitting for the Grand Master to train the Nautolan, whose species were rare among Jedi. "He knows when to let things be."

"That he does," Kit agreed.

* * *

Despite the civil nature of the mission, it really was too complicated to bring a ten-year-old. Qui-Gon resigned himself to turning it into a test of patience for his little one, which admittedly Obi-Wan was a bit bad at. Bringing the youngster along also proved distracting for the diplomats and business representatives, so after five hours of rising tempers, nothing got done that first day.

"Well that was decidedly unpleasant," Kit observed, "Let's try not to do that again."

"I think I just unlearned game theory," Qui-Gon told him seriously.

"That was really boring," Obi-Wan remarked a little grouchily, "I didn't understand what any of them were saying, and they were all speaking Basic, but they were using all these long words I've never even heard of!"

He probably had read them though, Qui-Gon thought. "Chaperone" was not the only word Obi-Wan had seen and did not know how to pronounce.

"And they were all really mean to each other!"

That much was true.

The next morning Obi-Wan started sniffling and coughing, which turned into a full-on fever. Since Qui-Gon was the master of the trio, Kit was delegated tasks of caretaker while Qui-Gon oversaw day two of negotiations. He checked on Obi-Wan after the beginnings of some contracts were beginning to be laid out.

"I hate influenza viruses," Kit was sipping hot tea while Obi-Wan was watching a holovid, coughing dry coughs. "Little buggers totally down you despite being wimpy illnesses. It makes me feel wimpy."

"Are you coming down with it too?" Qui-Gon asked in disbelief.

"Of course not. It's a human virus. You should be careful though. Hot cha?"

"Not now. Padawan, how are you feeling?"

"My head hurts but I can't sleep. And the headache medicines don't help."

"Have you tried siphoning off the pain with the Force?"

Obi-Wan scowled at him.

"You can't keep waiting for me to do it for you, little one. You've…what's it? 'Leveled up'? That means you have to do some of these things on your own."

"But my head hurts and I can't concentrate…"

Yoda was going to whack his shins for saying this. "Try." He felt the boy's forehead as Obi-Wan obeyed. "Still a little warm. Grab me the thermometer, will you?"

"Careful, don't drop it; that's mercury in there. Beats me why they gave me a mercury thermometer." Kit handed it to him.

"Mercury? For medicine? Thought they banned these ages ago. And it's an underarm one too. Interesting. What, did they run out of alcohol thermometers?"

Kit shrugged.

"You're a wily little rascal aren't you?" Qui-Gon said to Obi-Wan, "Getting sick so you can ditch negotiations, hm?"

"I didn't do it on purpose," Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose, "And it's no fun when you're actually sick."

"I bet it isn't." Qui-Gon glanced at the chrono. "Five minutes?" He asked Kit.

"Right."

"And don't get any ideas about faking illness just to cut classes or such," Qui-Gon went on, "I know when you're lying."

"I've never done that!"

"I know. Just saying."

"Did you get anything done, Master?"

"There's progress." Qui-Gon explained things to Kit. "You're a wily one too. I should have asked for Tahl. She could have sat there while _I_ tended to _my_ padawan because we've both got equal seniority."

"Oh I see why you brought your padawan here, Master Jinn. You were hoping that he would come up with some ludicrous scheme or other so you can sit out on your own mission! Crafty, Qui-Gon, real crafty. Not happening."

Qui-Gon shrugged with feigned helplessness while Obi-Wan giggled between his coughs. Apparently the boy's headache was gone.

"I hope tomorrow we can wrap things up, finalize the contract, and then sign the thing before I forget how to do math." Qui-Gon rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Seriously, you'd think businesspeople would know how to add and subtract…"

* * *

Obi-Wan "completed" his first mission without knowing what was going on or what happened, something that left the boy a little dissatisfied. Qui-Gon was just glad things did not descend to violence and he never had to activate his lightsaber. When they returned to the temple, Obi-Wan was still sick, so he spent the rest of the evening sleeping while Qui-Gon was debriefed by the Council.

Yoda chortled when he heard what the youngling had accomplished. "Little rascal, he is! Very well, very well."

"He wouldn't have understood what was happening even if he sat through all the negotiations," Qui-Gon told an amused Tahl. "The poor child was bored out of his mind. It really was just as well."

"At least he sat through one," She replied, "And you know how it is; most padawans get sick on their first mission. New environment, stress and a young body, all of that is enough to weaken one's immune system. Though I expected better of Obi-Wan, considering he's been going around unlike other padawans."

"There was a flu going around," Qui-Gon replied, "The representatives were all coughing and sneezing their way through the negotiations." In fact, Qui-Gon really did not appreciate being in their company, and he suspected this made their tempers more irritable too. "Obi-Wan's lived in a more sterile environment than the representatives there. He was a little more susceptible to it, I think."

Obi-Wan's illness did not ease the next day, nor the next, but Qui-Gon only became alarmed when one night he sensed their mental bond falter.

"It's been more than a week," Qui-Gon said to the healers as Obi-Wan miserably informed them that his diaphragm was hurting from all that coughing, "The flu shouldn't last that long."

"This isn't a flu," Said the healer, "It's pneumonia. Nasty one too, fungal."

"Fungal?" Qui-Gon stared. "What in the Force?"

"Nasty things, fungi," The healer went on, as Tahl held his arm, "His immune system must be severely compromised for him to get infected by one of those, probably he was attacked first by the flu, and then the fungus took the opportunity."

Qui-Gon scratched his temple, wondering what could have happened. Obi-Wan seemed to be in prime health. His genetic tests showed no hereditary illness, not even dormant ones, and he certainly had not been doing anything that would cause his immune system to be so weakened.

"Well what can you do?"

"We can give him some antifungal, but we need to do some tests, fungal infections are rather hard to deal with, with the Force we ought to be able to avoid surgery—"

"Surgery!"

Qui-Gon's panic was scaring Obi-Wan, so he quickly released his fear into the Force. Yoda came to visit shortly afterwards as the Jedi Master questioned the child. Dooku was with him.

"How is our little star doing?" Dooku asked amiably, and Obi-Wan blinked warily at him. The exchange reminded Qui-Gon sharply of his vision, and suddenly something slid in place.

"He attacked my padawan," He said to Yoda, once Dooku left.

"Hm?"

"I know he did."

"Calm down, you should."

"Oh I'm calm alright." He pressed his hand to his mouth as he listened to Obi-Wan cough in the next room and Tahl's subsequent murmurs of comfort.

"Know this, how?" Yoda raised his eyebrows. "Vision, saw, did you?"

Qui-Gon felt like punching something, which was not very Jedi. "I know this doesn't make sense, but I know _he_ had something to do with my padawan's illness."

"Your master, he was. Trained you, he did."

"And that makes him above suspicion, does it?"

Yoda whacked him in the shins. "Your tone, you should watch. Mean that, I did not."

"I don't care if he's Grand Master Zym," Qui-Gon went on, "I'll cross blades with _him_ if he dares to attack my padawan, see if I don't!"

Yoda whacked him in the shins again. "Calm down, you should!"

Qui-Gon was not calming down. "Surgery!" He exclaimed to the Grand Master, "Any later and we would have had to resort to surgery! They would have had to cut out parts of his lungs!"

Yoda hit him again. "Repeat myself again, I will not!"

Qui-Gon released a breath, though it did not cool his ire.

"Certain, are you, that your former master was to blame?"

"I feel it in the Force," He replied with conviction.

"Saw too, that dangerous, Sifo-Dyas will be, as well," Yoda pointed out.

"I don't exactly let Obi-Wan near Sifo-Dyas either," Qui-Gon pointed out.

"Hm. Sense darkness in Dooku, I do not, but clouded, his mind is to me. See him harm a youngling, I cannot, but how, there are ways."

Qui-Gon turned to him. "Like what? How does one do that? Cause someone to fall sick like that?"

"Dark Side skill, it is," Said Yoda, "Drain Force, drain life, weaken vitality of another, replace one's own. Possible, it is, to use youth of children, extend one's own life at cost of others."

_You should request some time, my friend. M _en like us have to slow down a little, allow the young ones to do the legwork…__

"Either send him away, or I will take Obi-Wan away," Qui-Gon looked at Yoda. "It's him. I know it's him. Master, Obi-Wan and I bonded in the Force. You can ask Sifo-Dyas—Master Billaba, you can meditate on this and I'm sure you would see it too, but Obi-Wan is important, somehow, more important than…more important than the Sith, even. He's a target. You remember that twi'lek serial killer."

"Always run from danger, one cannot," Yoda replied solemnly.

"He's young," Qui-Gon pleaded, "He's not old enough to face the dangers that are hunting him. Certainly not when they wear the face of one of our own. I'm not asking you to kick Dooku out. I'm asking you to keep him occupied. Surely that would not inconvenience anyone."

"Except Dooku!" The Grand Master pointed out, "But hear you, I do. Willing to leave the Order, are you?" He gently poked Qui-Gon in the back of the knee with his stick, "Everywhere, danger is, both in temple and outside. So eager, are you, to leave the defenses we have?"

Chastised, Qui-Gon murmured, "I wanted you to know I was serious." Obi-Wan's coughing hacked in the air and the child moaned wearily.

"Overlook the individual, sometimes, we do," Yoda nodded grimly, "But not all the time." He hobbled back to Obi-Wan where the two talked briefly, before telling Qui-Gon, "Done, it will be."

"I hope Obi-Wan learns exactly how much you're giving up for him," Tahl told Qui-Gon once Yoda left, "Friends, master, what next?"

"Sanity?" Qui-Gon returned grimly.

"Force willing," She replied, "It better be worth it."

Qui-Gon considered his sick child.

"I won't let the dark take him," He vowed.


	13. Calm Before Telos

"I hate being sick," Obi-Wan moped, "And I didn't know that coughing so often would make my _chest_ hurt."

 _"That certainly sounds unpleasant,"_ Bail Organa's hologram was interspersed with static. _"I probably shouldn't take up too much of your time then."_

"It's okay," Obi-Wan insisted, "I'm bored out of my mind. How are things going on Alderaan?"

_"Pretty well. The usual legal stuff that you're probably not too interested in hearing right now. Also…wedding…stuff, though thankfully most of the planning is done by Breha and her family. I just have to show up."_

Obi-Wan's giggling caused him to cough again. "She seems really nice. You're both really nice. I think you two match well."

Qui-Gon snorted at this. The boy sounded like he actually knew what he was talking about. _Ten-year-olds._

_"Thanks, Obi. Always good to know that at least others have faith in us. Father will be talking to Master Yoda, ask if perhaps you can come along. If I name you ring bearer, I can prevent my cousins and uncles from killing each other over it."_

"What do ring bearers do?"

 _Ring bearer?_ Qui-Gon could think of at least a dozen candidates more suitable than Obi-Wan. Was Bail being serious?

 _"I don't know if it's allowed, though,"_ Bail warned after he finished explaining, _"I don't know if there's some kind of message that we might unintentionally send by having Jedi participate in the actual ceremony. Would be great if Yoda gives you permission though."_

"Uh-huh," Obi-Wan sounded enthusiastic enough, "That would be nice. I've never been to a wedding before, much less a royal one!"

_"Kid, you'll probably see a lot of weddings if Yoda lets you in on this one."_

"I hope so. I hear they're exciting. Is there a lot of fainting involved? You're the groom so you're in extra danger."

Where did Obi-Wan hear that? Who told him that? Was it Tahl? Qui-Gon was going to figure out who had been teaching his padawan these things.

 _"Believe me,"_ Bail sounded wry, _"You have no idea."_

The boy went on talking to the viceroy's son, which was interesting because usually ten-year-olds had little to say to adults, and Bail Organa certainly seemed popular enough that he did not have to resort chatting with a youngling. Then again, Obi-Wan had plenty to say to all his friends, most of whom were adults. He actually did better with people who were older than him rather than younger, probably because he was too young himself to be able to consider the mentalities of those even smaller than himself.

Youngsters. It was like watching evolution in progress. Accelerated many times over.

Adi Gallia came by while the child was sleeping to inform him that he would be taking up mediation courses with Tahl. Mace was with her because he was bored.

"It's been a while since you were assigned on a mission, hasn't it?" Qui-Gon pointed out to him.

Mace glowered. "Not for the lack of trying. You wouldn't believe the matters on Coruscant. The problems run along like they're on steroids. I really need to get off his planet, but I'm neck-deep in all the local happenings already and it's too inconvenient to let someone else take over. How's your little one doing?"

"Here's the syllabus," Adi handed the datapad to Qui-Gon, "You're grounded for this week and the next, that should give your padawan enough time to recover. After that, I believe the Council wants to send you to Pure Neimoidia to check on the Trade Federation."

Qui-Gon was beginning to realize that people loved talking to him while he was trying to read. "Colonies region?" He remarked slowly, distracted, "So we're branching out then? First Core, then Colonies, Inner Rim…Expansion, Mid Rim, Outer Rim…" Actually he was hoping Obi-Wan would never have to go out to the Outer Rim.

"Have to start somewhere. The Trade Federation is a pretty influential cartel, and the Neimoidians are pretty influential in the Trade Federation. It's a win-win!"

"…Sure…last I heard the Trade Federation isn't too fond of the Jedi sticking their noses into their business." Pun intended.

"We're sending a third Jedi to watch out for your padawan," Adi said in a slightly long-suffering tone, "When did you start being so complicated to deal with? Never mind, don't answer that."

"I was going to say," Mace smirked at her.

"I have doubts that Obi-Wan's charm will work on them." In fact, he had a nagging feeling that the boy would be absolutely miserable if he had to entertain the Neimoidians. The child was not so dense that he could remain blissfully unaware of other people's impressions. "We'll see. What's this, just a check up?"

"We're arranging it. Depa is discussing the visit with the minister, Nute Gunray. It won't be for a while though, and you should really focus on teaching this," Adi tapped the datapad with the syllabus.

"You know, sending me and Obi-Wan away all the time will interfere with his studies."

"He'll be given assignments. You learn more off Coruscant anyway."

This was true.

"Master Dooku is being sent away," Mace opened, "You wouldn't know something about that, would you?"

"He's being sent away?" Qui-Gon was not so distracted this time, but he kept his intonations the same and his eyes on the datapad to maintain the illusion that he was. "Where?"

"I don't know. Yoda just talked to us, recommended we send Dooku away somewhere. Right after you returned from Corellia too. What did he do, give your padawan the evil eye? Threaten to eat the lad?"

"Mind you," Qui-Gon looked up, "If Master Dooku actually threatened to eat Obi-Wan, I'd consider that a good reason to keep him far away from here."

"This is true," Mace conceded. "Good thing I know that Dooku wouldn't do such a thing, even in jest. So what was it?"

"What makes you think anything actually happened?"

"Qui-Gon, you might think you're being subtle. You're not."

"Mmhmm," Adi agreed.

"What?"

Mace folded his arms. "When Feemor and his padawan were here at the temple, you were really excited. When I told you Authsola was going to be here, you threatened to make life very miserable for us if the Council sent her away before you returned from Alderaan. When Dooku returned from his mission, which, by the way, lasted a good number of years, you tried your best to pretend you didn't know that. Mind you, I remember how close you two were when you were his padawan."

"We weren't."

"Yes, but that didn't mean he wasn't fond of you, or you of him, at some level. It's really obvious to the rest of us that you're trying to avoid him, and with the way you've been keeping your little one close to you as long as you knew he was roaming the halls, it's as if you had another one of those crazy visions you had when you first bonded with your padawan."

"Those visions weren't _crazy."_

"Well they drove _you_ crazy. Absolutely bonkers. You were leaping up if someone so much as looked at your youngling wrong. For a while there we were worried that you were going to stifle Kenobi with your overly-protective neurosis."

"Well…" Qui-Gon stated lamely, "That was…then. It's over now."

"We're Jedi," Mace went on, "Some things we don't get to indulge in. Wealth, safety, attachments. Just because we're not willing to give some of those up does not mean we don't have to anyway."

"Don't lecture me, Mace," Qui-Gon turned away, "It's a fine thing to preach about no attachments when you're attached to the bloody Code."

"I'm not attached to the bloody Code—"

"We're _all_ attached to the bloody Code!" Qui-Gon stared at him, "And that's alright, because that's useful. We're also attached to the Force, which is also alright, because _that's_ useful. It's really a fine thing, for the Jedi to talk about no attachments as if these two things weren't the same thing. Maybe instead of getting _rid_ of attachments, we should instead investigate how to _cope_ with them and still function as peacekeepers of the galaxy, yes? Now for Force's sake stop talking to me about other things when I'm trying to study the syllabus!"

* * *

 

Fungal infections take a long time to eliminate. Obi-Wan was still bedridden when Qui-Gon took up classes with Tahl. Dooku visited him after a class, but the two had little to say to each other.

"How is your padawan doing?"

"He's alright. Getting better."

"I see."

"…"

Dooku looked well. His master was a good thirty years older than Qui-Gon, but Jedi tended to have long lifespans and a human could live to two hundred provided he was not slain in battle. The older master had grayed a little, but his face was rather free of wrinkles and the light in his eyes was as sharp and piercing as ever. Before Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon would have been delighted to see him at any point, would have sought his counsel about anything that was bothering him. He had studied with this man, lived with him and learned from him, looked up to him for approval and reassurance during one of the most significant periods of his life. Strange how one child could nullify a lifetime's worth of affection.

"Is something troubling you, my former padawan? I sense something amiss."

Dooku would be an absolute fool if he had not sensed something amiss. Qui-Gon would be an absolute fool if he decided to admit to it.

"Nothing, I suppose I am just worried about Obi-Wan. My padawan fell sick rather suddenly, as you know."

"Yes," Dooku was not convinced, but he was unable to press without appearing too forward.

They talked a little bit about Dooku's next mission. The elder master was not exactly happy to be sent off again, which would be understandable under any circumstances, and Qui-Gon found it within himself to be a bit sympathetic. Not enough to wish otherwise, but just enough so that he could behave properly.

"A word, if you will, my old padawan," His master called when Qui-Gon made his excuses to go check on his little one, "I've been hearing some comments of…concern, regarding you and your current padawan."

Dooku, Qui-Gon thought with some exasperation, did not have Yoda's talent of keeping his advice to himself. "Am I being accused of forming attachments?"

"Something like it, yes. I am worried about you, Qui-Gon. You realize that indulging in these things is neither good for you nor the child you've pledged to train."

"Things?" Come to think of it, it might be useful to listen to this. "What things, precisely, have you heard?"

"This and that," Said Dooku, "People have noticed you tend to keep the child close by you as opposed to allowing him the freedom to explore. You do not allow him to meet new people without your approval, going so far as to encourage him to willfully ignore guests regardless of courtesy or propriety. I understand that he is young, and the galaxy is full of danger, but as his master, you are not only obligated to protect him, Qui-Gon, you are obligated to teach him to protect himself. Avoiding danger is one method, but there are only so many places to hide, and one can only run for so long. He needs to learn to face these things, not just avoid them. As a Jedi, he is supposed to pave a safe path for others. He can't do that if he's constantly dodging threats."

This much, at least, was true, and Qui-Gon felt a pang of nostalgia as he remembered the old trust he had for his master. Unfortunately, he knew it was a truth wrapped with a malicious intent.

"I protect him because the Force wishes me to," He said to Dooku, "The Force chose me to protect him and prepare him. He is learning fast, but not fast enough, and it's only been a year or so since he became my padawan—less, in fact. He has a knack for drawing attention, you understand that, don't you?"

His master smiled a bit uncomfortably at this.

"He'll be ready to face what the galaxy throws at him," Qui-Gon went on, "I won't always be here, after all. Just as you were not always here for me, especially after my knighting. Our lives are all our own. But I expect I'll know when he's ready, and so will he." He inclined his head. "I appreciate your concern, my old master, but I have trained two padawans already. I am hardly a knight new to teaching his own apprentice."

"Yes, you are a seasoned teacher in your own right," Dooku acknowledged. "Very well. May the Force be with you."

"And with you."

* * *

"Governor Du Crion has requested your presence on Telos," Mace announced to Qui-Gon as the two went to spar.

"What happened to Neimoidia?" Qui-Gon asked. "Thought Obi-Wan and I are headed there." Between the cartel and a possible Sith Lord, there was no competition. "Since when did the Jedi Order indulge these sort of things? This better be good."

"Pirates," said Mace, "They're becoming a huge nuisance there. He wants Jedi intervention."

"Send someone else."

"Pirates are kind of more important than getting Kenobi to socialize with business cartels, Qui-Gon."

"He pays special attention to my padawan, hands him a _gift_ that even Master Sifo-Dyas became nervous about, and then requests my presence specifically? This isn't strange to you at all?"

"Of course it's strange. Ever heard of the phrase 'springing the trap'? I know that with your new padawan you've unlearned certain things, like the advantages of baits and decoys, but come on, Qui. This is elementary."

"Hm!" Qui-Gon wrinkled his nose. "Well, my little one's not going."

"That's fair," Said Mace with a scowl, "I'd think there's something wrong with you if you insisted on taking him along."

"I guess it's back to the créche for Obi-Wan then."

"Qui, I think Padawan Kenobi is old enough to stay home by himself."

"For a day. Maybe two. How long do you suppose I'll be on Telos and then dealing with those pirates? A week? Two, maybe? It's about three days to Telos and then three days back and who knows how many days dealing with those pirates, so definitely more than a week. How about you call the Supreme Chancellor or some other friend of yours and ask them just how drunk they would have to be to leave a ten-year-old at home by themselves for a fortnight."

"He's only two years younger than twelve…"

"And a new-born is only one year younger than a one-year-old but newborns can't talk. Seriously, why me," Qui-Gon turned at the corridors to head into the salles, "Other people have had ten-year-old padawans and they never got called away."

"You're good. Price of being an overachiever."

Qui-Gon scowled at him.

Tahl joined them later, standing to the side as Qui-Gon practiced the Soresu against Mace, whose lightsaber form was more aggressive than other forms and tended to focus on the offensive. Mace was therefore able to chat with Tahl while Qui-Gon was preoccupied with blocking and dodging.

"Yoda is not letting me get Bant Eerin," Tahl complained,

"Isn't she that Mon Calamari girl? What is she, nine years old now?"

"I don't see why Qui-Gon gets special treatment like this. This is blatant bias. He selected his little one when _he_ was nine, I don't see why I can't as well."

"Well you know Qui," Mace grunted as Qui-Gon finally turned the tide around briefly. Qui-Gon allowed Mace to reclaim the advantage since he could not exactly practice the Soresu without being on the defensive, "When he puts his mind to it he can exasperate the Council into agreeing."

"I don't—" Block, "—always do that—" Parry, "—Especially not with Obi—" Dodge, dodge, block, parry, block, step back, "They agreed pretty easily. I did wait a while." Mace continued attacking, so Qui-Gon broke off to defend again.

"Yes, you recruited Master Sifo-Dyas to bugger Yoda until he caved in."

"Oh, is that what happened?" Tahl asked.

"They had a loooooong discussion," Mace paused briefly to address her, "You know, sometimes I think Qui-Gon trained under Sifo-Dyas instead, despite hardly ever meeting him. The man just refused to take no for an answer. They're both equally stubborn."

Qui-Gon lunged at Mace to remind him he was supposed to be sparring. "I didn't tell Sifo-Dyas—to do that—he did it on his own—after talking to me." Dodge dodge dodge dodge dodge.

"Stop running away!" Mace scowled, "I can't talk to Tahl if you keep making me chase you."

"You're not exactly supposed to be holding a conversation here Mace!"

"You're losing your touch Mace," Tahl teased, "If you can't spar with Qui and still talk to me. You must be getting old. Knew you lost your hair for a reason."

"Oh you are very _cute_ ," Mace sneered at her, powering off his lightsaber. The Korun Jedi was not usually flippant, so Qui-Gon was delighted when he then said, "I might not have hair now, but who's growing grey? Who? Ohhhhhhh!"

"Oh!" Tahl feigned offense, "Are you calling me grey, Mace?"

"What's that bit of white there? Is that _yours?_ Goodness, Tahl! And are those crow's feet?"

"Ohhhhhhh that does it!" Tahl shot up and powered on her lightsaber, "Stand back, Qui, this one's going to feel it in his rear _so hard_ —"

"Oh you think you can kick my rear do you? I don't know, do I hear creaking? I think your bones are trying to tell you something, Tahl!"

Qui-Gon stepped back obligingly with a grin and turned his head just in time to see Obi-Wan and Yoda standing at the doors, watching. Yoda looked fairly unimpressed. Obi-Wan, still a bit pale and gaunt from his illness, was amused.

"Take that!" Tahl cried, striking out in a rather inelegant slash, which Mace dodged just as awkwardly. "What's that? Think you're moving a bit slow there, Master Windu!"

"You're not so fast yourself, Master Tahl—Uh! How's that?"

Yoda shook his head and hobbled away on his cane. Obi-Wan was enjoying this too much to leave.

Eventually Tahl and Mace progressed to a real spar. Obi-Wan watched them with the attention of any good student, and Qui-Gon could almost hear the child's calculations as Mace executed a particularly tricky maneuver.

"Don't try it alone," He warned Obi-Wan. Mace and Tahl were too engrossed in their duel to notice. "You're not ready for that yet. You shouldn't attempt that until your growth plates have sealed." He beckoned for the child to come next to him.

"Who do you think would win?" He asked, curious. At first glance Mace looked more impressive due to his favorite style, but he wanted to see if Obi-Wan could look deeper than that.

"I don't know," Obi-Wan replied, "They don't look like they're really trying."

He ruffled the boy's hair. _You're no fun,_ He thought in amusement. How was he supposed to teach the boy anything if he knew it all already? "Which style do you like best?"

"I like Master Tahl's," Said Obi-Wan, "I've never seen Master Windu's before." Mace's Vaapad form was his own invention, an improvement upon the Juyo form, which was a very aggressive style that the Order had restricted due to its darker mental requirements. Mace was truly formidable in combat with this style; his form made him look like he was wielding many lightsabers at once, though at the moment he was not putting much effort into it. "It's too complicated," The boy went on, "It's all showy but I don't think it makes much sense. You put so much energy in looking intimidating when most of those movements wouldn't actually score any hits."

Qui-Gon grouped that comment in the same place he grouped "Master Window". He had used that nickname already and the results were actually a bit disappointing, but he had no doubt Mace would flip out at having his treasured lightsaber form critiqued so harshly by a ten-year-old—and so accurately too.

"Alright, so you don't like Mace's. Be honest with me here, Obi-Wan; which lightsaber form do you like best, just from watching. It doesn't have to be mine."

"I think it depends," Obi-Wan said frankly, "I think Ataru is fun." Ataru was Qui-Gon's lightsaber form, a more acrobatically-aggressive-based form. "But I think it also has a lot of ex—ex—extranus—" He was trying to say "extraneous", Qui-Gon realized, and had to bite back a chuckle that the boy still struggled with pronunciation, "Movements. It wouldn't be good for defending. I like Soresu. It protects all of you. I like Niman too, because it incorporates all the other forms and isn't wasteful."

Qui-Gon could see a running theme here.

"Jar'Kai is really sweet, because it uses _two_ lightsabers and that is so much better than just one lightsaber."

And…he was a ten-year-old.

"Do you recognize the forms?" Qui-Gon asked Obi-Wan. The initiates start off learning only the Shii-Cho, the basic lightsaber form, and often did not learn the others until they became padawans. "What's Master Tahl using?"

Obi-Wan squinted. "I think she's using Niman."

"That's right."

"Oh look," Tahl stopped their duel, "Hello, Obi-Wan!"

"Hi Master Tahl."

"We were critiquing your performance," Qui-Gon said with a grin.

"Were you?" Mace cocked an eyebrow. "And what was your verdict, little one?"

"You're both bad," Obi-Wan pouted, "Because you stopped."

Tahl burst out laughing. "You are a little rascal! Good duel, Mace. Looks like you're not _that_ old after all."

"Hm! Likewise, Tahl."

Obi-Wan was testing out some of the movements as the two masters settled down.

"Ah-ah, remember what I said," Qui-Gon warned.

"When _will_ my growth plates close?"

"In your late twenties, my child," He ruffled the boy's head, "So you're getting way ahead of yourself."

"Late twenties!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, "That's _such_ a long time!"

Qui-Gon glanced at the other two masters and mused that neither of them were as good as his padawan was at making all three of them feel old.


	14. Telos IV

Qui-Gon openly scolded Obi-Wan for the first time because of Telos. It was actually a good thing, because scolding and disagreements had to come between the pair eventually, and the Order already found it extremely odd that the two had not uncovered their differences earlier. The good thing came at a bad time, however, as such good things always did, and it also was not anything Qui-Gon could rightfully criticize the boy over, other than his bad handling of the situation. He should have kept calm, kept his focus, instead of letting his emotions rule over him, but the boy was ten years old and scared.

"Why can't I come with you?" The child exclaimed in front of all the Jedi in the hangar, "You let me come with you on the last mission!"

"This mission is much more dangerous than the last one, Obi-Wan—"

"I can help."

It was laughable that the ten-year-old believed he could offer any significant assistance to a master like Qui-Gon.

"You will go with Tahl," Qui-Gon pointed sternly, "And you will meditate on your behavior today and consider how you make yourself look and how you make _me_ look in front of the others. Go. I will not discuss this further with you." The ship was waiting, he was supposed to leave Coruscant in fifteen minutes and had thought he could spend more time in a civil setting with Obi-Wan, rather than deal with this sudden fit.

Obi-Wan burst into tears and looked frightened, which gave the master some pause. This was not the boy's pride, or disappointment at being left behind when he was "old enough" to go with his master. He was scared, almost like he had some kind of nightmare about this mission. At this point, Qui-Gon knew if one of them received a vision, the other one did not.

He knelt down to look up at Obi-Wan, who was clenching his fists in an effort to control himself.

"What happened?" He asked, "You know you're still a little weak from being sick. I'd spend most of my time worrying about you instead of the mission if I bring you with me."

Obi-Wan bit his lip.

"Stop doing that," Qui-Gon scolded, pulling on the boy's chin to tug the lip out. "Talk to me. I don't have much time."

"Do you have to go? What if—what if something happens to you?"

Obi-Wan never worried about something like that before. He always had full confidence in Qui-Gon's abilities as a master, that he possessed the sort of invincibility children believed their parents had. Qui-Gon wanted to reassure the boy, but knew, both as parent and teacher, that he could not make such promises lightly.

"If that is the Force's will," He told his padawan, "Then it will be so, and we will follow it." Eleven minutes was not enough time to start talking about life and death. "I will be careful, and I will do my best to return, I can promise you that."

"He doesn't like you," Obi-Wan insisted.

"The governor?"

The boy nodded miserably. There was more, but the child was unwilling to say.

"I'll be careful," Qui-Gon promised again. "Obi-Wan, everything dies eventually. If that is the will of the Force, I have to obey."

"It isn't the will of the Force. It's the will of the Dark Side."

Another hint. It seemed like Obi-Wan was trying to tell him that Xanatos Du Crion was a Sith Lord. He was wise to be discreet, because if Qui-Gon had not had the visions he did, he would not have believed the boy. The Sith were extinct, as far as the Order was concerned.

Nine minutes. He had to get on that ship before he lost the window scheduled to leave Coruscant's atmosphere. Qui-Gon held out his arm and pulled the boy into a tight hug.

"No matter what happens, I will always be with you." It was as much as he could say now, even if it was not enough. "Your master is not so easy to kill. Go now. Tahl! Take him. I have to get the ship started."

Tahl led the tearful Obi-Wan to the side of the hangar as the Jedi Master finally boarded the shuttle. There was an R2 unit, but beyond that he was alone.

 _Master…_ Obi-Wan's voice wailed through the link. Qui-Gon sent a reassuring wave even as he powered up the engines.

He sighed. This mission might turn out to be more interesting than he could ever want.

* * *

Because the boy was so distraught, Qui-Gon did not immediately enter hyperspace upon exiting Coruscant's stratosphere. He sent a transmission to Tahl's comm. for her to receive when she had the chance. He doubted the Force would fail him with this mission, but it was always good to be cautious, especially since this mission might turn out to be very bad.

"Let Obi-Wan know that I'll contact him as soon as I land, in case he forgets. Tell Master Yoda that he should probably send Mace instead of Kit," He paused, "In case the Telosian governor tries something Kit can't handle. I might need Mace's Vaapad form if the trap proves to be too big when sprung. Also I get the feeling that Sifo-Dyas might approach Obi-Wan in this state. Can you look after him for me? I know he's in the créche but I don't want Sifo-Dyas taking him out of the temple or something." It truly must be a nightmare for those using the Unifying Force to keep track of all their visions. " I think he's going to be really depressed this time around, I have a bunch of snacks from the different Core planets we've visited hidden in the cabinet in my bedroom—it's behind Authsola's large holocamera suitcase in a duffel bag. Should have thought of that before I left. Make sure he doesn't find the stack! He'll probably eat it all or give it all away, I'm not sure which one's better, really but neither is good because that stack is supposed to last him about two years…"

He gave the R2 droid the go-ahead to launch into hyperspace. It was easier to have a droid around; this way if he ever encountered Coruscanti traffic again he could just nap and let the R2 unit take care of it. _Seriously, every ship should come with one of these things._

Obi-Wan's presence dimmed a little as they entered hyperspace, but their bond was strong enough that he could still feel Obi-Wan and sense some of his emotions. The boy was feeling resigned and helpless, a feeling Qui-Gon could understand, given the nature of their parting. "I will always be here" was not really much of a reassurance if Obi-Wan did not know what he meant.

What _would_ happen to the boy if something happened to Qui-Gon? The child was unique, and at this point everyone already loved the boy enough that someone would take him as a padawan. And then see all his "flaws". Some of it they would no doubt blame on Qui-Gon, but some would probably blame it on the child himself. Would they protect the boy adequately? What if they chose to ignore the warnings from the Force?

 _Idiot._ He could not worry about such things. It was out of his hands, and worrying about them was useless at best and harmful at worst. He had already allowed the future to guide his choices already, and Qui-Gon was not strong in the Unifying Force. For the matter on Telos IV, he had to be incredibly careful, especially if the governor turned out to be a Sith.

He would definitely need Mace's Vaapad.

* * *

As far as planets went, Telos IV was a fairly ordinary bit of rock. It had a long history that was obvious in the planet's Force presence, ancient, grounded, and solid compared to significantly younger planets. It did not really have abnormally rich resources, but it had a stable ecosystem that could be considered beautiful, sustaining a rich culture and businesses associated with tourism. Not bad, for a planet on the outskirts of the galaxy.

Governor Du Crion met Qui-Gon with several other envoys, and all of them exchanged pleasantries. Some of the other members of the Telosian Council had visited Coruscant before, and Qui-Gon remembered some of their faces, if not their names.

"Master Jinn!" The governor inclined his head in greeting, and was all courtesy and attention. "We are so glad you were able to come!"

"My pleasure," Said the Jedi Master, walking forward.

"Come, come," Said the governor, and began introducing him to all the envoys there. Qui-Gon acknowledged each as was polite, and directed the conversation to business as soon as presentations were done.

"The report indicated that the pirates are becoming a bit trying to deal with," Said Qui-Gon, "But did not articulate what precisely you want me to do, and under what conditions. Pirates are a scattered lot, and negotiating with them would be fruitless. What exactly have they been attacking, who are they targeting, and what do you want me to do about it?"

"Your order likes to get straight to the point," The governor observed with amusement, his admittedly handsome young face splitting into a grin that would appear equally handsome to those who did not know what to look for. "As for the pirates, Telos wants them gone. It doesn't quite matter how—that is up to you, as long as the space territories are cleared. Perhaps it would be best if we arrest a few to make as an example, discourage others from this criminal career. They do behave as a scattered lot, but perhaps there is some organization to be found, though if there is our forces have yet to uncover it. Their attacks also seem random—our calculations indicate that there is no predictable pattern to be found with the attacks, but I can show you where most of them are taking place."

Pirates were one of those things that the planets liked to take care of themselves as opposed to appealing to the Republic or the Jedi Order. It tended to be a local matter, and inviting Republic forces would endanger their self-rule. Everything about the situation was bizarre, to say the least, and the Jedi master filed away the possibility that Xanatos might have orchestrated the entire thing just to get him to come here for later analysis. The Jedi Order had been around long enough that this had actually happened quite a few times to its members before.

The governor and his envoys did not seem to share Qui-Gon's need for urgency in resolving the issue of pirates, so Qui-Gon relaxed his own stance. He had no doubt pirates were actually ransacking shipments and blowing up freighters, but if the Telosian government itself was in no hurry, he wanted the time to take in more of the situation before acting.

"You came alone?" Governor Du Crion noted, "I was told you had a padawan, and that padawans accompany their masters on missions."

"Not all of them," Qui-Gon replied, projecting a civil expression to hide the brusqueness of his answer.

"Ah," Said the envoy, "We met him, I believe. Quite an unusual youngster, rather memorable."

"Oh yes," The governor nodded, "What was his name again? Ke—Kenobi, I believe?"

"Kenobi, yes."

"What a nice young man. I told him he should visit Telos sometime. It's very different from Coruscant."

Every planet, admittedly, was different from Coruscant—such was the hazard of being a unique planet. Qui-Gon did not say this though. "It was kind of you to extend the invitation, Governor."

"No trouble at all," Xanatos smiled.

* * *

The lack of pattern was telling.

There was always some kind of pattern if something was truly random, even if it stretched over a limited range. Even pi had a brief pattern of 3, 1, 4, 1, 5 before veering away, and if the pirates were truly working on their own, there were places that were more convenient, ships that were easier to attack, more profitable to loot—there would be patterns. Qui-Gon had them run through the screens by date, the number of passengers of each ship that was attacked, types of ships that were attacked, but all yielded little to say. The markers littering the map did not resemble the random activity of multiple groups. The whole thing looked too careful, like the pirates were doing their best not to get in each other's way and cooperating to make everything appear random. Perhaps the governor was paying under the table?

"You are right," Qui-Gon said to the envoys, "This does look random. I will meditate on this and see if the Force has anything to say about it."

Most non-Force-sensitives view this sort of statement with skepticism, and the envoys were no different. Xanatos himself was carefully impassive, his face the perfect mask of fake amiability. It could be for purposes of civility less than because he himself was Force-sensitive, and this was not really too important, as long as Qui-Gon had some time alone.

"Of course," Said the governor, "You must be tired from your journey. I will have my men show you to your quarters; they are on the other side of the building, with a good view too. I was told this helps with meditation."

Qui-Gon inclined his head in gratitude. The R2 unit that came with him whirred softly.

"If you can bring a projector to my rooms with all of this data," Qui-Gon went on, "And a holocomputer, I would appreciate it. I may also contact the Council to discuss possible actions to take." It would not do to admit that he had not contacted them yet—Xanatos might try something and then claim that Qui-Gon never arrived on Telos.

He had to call his little one anyway.

* * *

Obi-Wan greeted him while eating Alderaanian crackers, looking in significantly better spirits upon realizing his master had arrived safely, though more likely it was because of the snacks. He was still a bit sullen. Qui-Gon wondered with a mild panic just how much the child had eaten between now and when he left Coruscant.

 _"Be careful, Master, I have a bad feeling,_ " The child twisted his lips, frowning. _"It's confusing."_

"Have you been good for Tahl?" Qui-Gon asked.

The boy nodded. _"She was telling me a lot of stories of you when you were younger. She said that the Telosians don't have a chance of bringing you down."_

Well, the Telosians did not. A Sith might, if he or she had the proper training, but Qui-Gon was not going to point that out to his already edgy padawan.

"You have been doing all your homework? All your exercises?"

Obi-Wan nodded again. It was really a redundant question—the boy liked playing as much as any other child, but he was a good student. _"Feemor is back! He said I can go stay with him. I dunno though, I think his padawan isn't too thrilled with me barging into their home all the time, and the créche is nice for now as long as Garen and Reeft are here."_

The wonderful thing about Obi-Wan was that because of his innate compassion, he usually had a keen insight into the hearts of other people, and he would often share them with his master. Qui-Gon had not even considered how Feemor's padawan felt about Obi-Wan, or Qui-Gon's constant requests to look after the boy. "I see. So you will stay at the créche then?"

 _"Uh-huh. Feemor said I could visit whenever I like. Tahl thinks his padawan feels a bit ne-ne…neglected? When I'm around, so she suggested I don't visit too often. She's still trying to get Bant. I think Knight Fisto is fighting with her over Bant. It's funny. I hope that Garen and Reeft get chosen soon though. Most of the créche is still there but they're getting a bit nervous._ "

Garen and Reeft had no worries. Qui-Gon was sure of this. Still, a little bit of anxiety was not necessarily bad for the younglings, even if it might seem cruel—it would teach them some humility, and empathize with those who were not so fortunate to move out of a situation.

 _"How long are you going to be gone?"_ Obi-Wan's tone took on a plaintive quality, _"Are you going to be back soon? I miss you."_

"I miss you too, little one," Qui-Gon found the child heartwarming. "Believe me, I want to finish this as soon as possible. You go ahead and keep being the good padawan you are, alright? If the next mission is safe, I will bring you along."

Obi-Wan brightened at first, but then scowled a little. _"You mean safe as in boring, don't you, Master?"_

The brat was quick. "A Jedi does not seek adventure, my young padawan."

 _"A Jedi does not seek_ boring _either!"_

The comment made Qui-Gon laugh uncontrollably. One day, boring would be something Obi-Wan preferred, but the comment was just so young and innocent and childlike, the master found himself unwilling to disillusion the boy from it. Children must have their philosophies, after all.

"Be good, Obi-Wan. I will be back soon."

 _"Alright."_ Then, probably because he had encountered so many normal families and had glimpsed into their daily lives, the child added unthinkingly, _"Love you."_

Answering had been no choice at all. "Love you too, Obi-Wan."

The Council will have his head, Qui-Gon mused when the connection closed. Or not—at ten years old, did children even know what love is? It had clearly been something that just fell from the boy's lips, because he had heard such exchanges between fathers and sons and mothers and daughters. One thing was for certain; the boy was solidly attached to Qui-Gon, as much, in many ways, as Qui-Gon was attached to him. All padawans and masters were attached to some level, though saying it gave more dimension to the sentiment.

 _Little rascal,_ The man shook his head fondly.

* * *

Instead of meditating after talking with Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon looked around for any recorders in his room. His Force senses told him that the room was clean; if Xanatos was really a Sith, he probably did not think Qui-Gon was on to him. Obi-Wan was unusually strong in the Unifying Force, even without taking his incredible young age, and as a practitioner of the Living Force, no one would ever expect Qui-Gon to be stealing his padawan's visions; certainly, no one would believe he would trust in them.

Qui-Gon was not called a maverick without reason. In fact, there were many, one of which was his often unpredictable approaches to problems, whether they be related to the Force or something else. In this case, armed with Obi-Wan's multiple warnings, the master set about to uncover if there was a plot in a rather un-Jedi-like fashion; the room was not bugged, so Qui-Gon whipped out the computer and set about slicing.

Remote slicing, or really, slicing of any kind, was rather illegal in the Republic. Most Jedi did not resort to it because it required too much effort to learn and the Force was usually more reliable when dealing with non-Force-sensitives who were suspected of corruption. Qui-Gon learned this as a padawan because there were enough instances with ysalamari or Force-inhibiting devices and drugs that knowing such things could be life-saving. As he hacked, he made notes that he should remember to teach Obi-Wan these things before knighthood; once a knight, it would be harder for the boy to devote time to learning how to hack. Among the many things Qui-Gon planned to teach him were underhanded skills of pickpocketing, lockpicking, and planting viruses into people's hardware.

The servers in the Telosian system made for a complicated network. After setting up the protocols, he called the R2 unit over and gave it some instructions, since the droid could read the data faster than he could. As the R2 unit hacked, Qui-Gon looked over the maps and diagrams and other forensic data. Military grade weapons had been used, and the pirates often ambushed ships exiting out of hyperspace, as if anticipating their arrival. Curious indeed. It was looking more and more like a setup, especially given, _Oh, what do you know?_ The pirate attacks intensified about a year ago, soon after Du Crion visited Coruscant for business deals.

He needed more evidence than speculation, however. As the R2 unit continued to browse through the files, Qui-Gon did some more slicing of his own.

 _I did_ not _forget the importance of bait and decoys,_ He thought to Mace, as he hacked into a company server and listed an additional shipment of goods. He better tell Mace to fly a ship for two people when the time came.

* * *

In confronting possible corrupt officials like Xanatos, it was always best to reveal just enough of the truth to mislead the other.

"I'm noticing there is a number of ambush cases," Qui-Gon said to the governor and several of the officials, "I have reason to suspect that the information regarding shipments are being leaked to the pirates somehow."

Xanatos' eyes became piercing. "Oh? You believe there is a mole?"

"Or many moles," Qui-Gon said flippantly, "It's hard to say. They don't follow any particular pattern, as you say. The shipments being attacked belong to both large and small businesses, but it's curious that they attack when the ships come out of hyperspace. I would like to go talk with the corporations, determine their shipping protocols and if any of their servers were breached."

Xanatos narrowed his dark eyes. "But it's a bit outrageous to claim that all of these businesses have moles—I see no advantage to be had in this case."

"Of course," Qui-Gon inclined his head, "But they could be using the same shipment protocols, yes? Or they may be using the same server security systems. We wouldn't know until we talked to them about this. As for what benefits, well, what benefits does any act of piracy garner?"

"Yes," The governor agreed easily enough. "That is a splendid idea. Best of luck to you, Master Jedi."

 _Good play,_ Qui-Gon thought. Sith did not believe in luck any more than Jedi did. The master almost felt sorry for the man. He did not know about the Kenobimeter.

"R2," He called his unit as he left the governor's office, "Come along. We're going to talk to people."


	15. Scandal Beyond Telos

Talking to companies was really just for show. Qui-Gon jotted notes down because he should, but he knew he would not get anywhere. After all, the Telosian investigators did the same things and got nowhere. Even with the Force, Qui-Gon could only be so audacious.

There were some possible leads, however, though Qui-Gon knew better than to pursue them directly. Since the governor was the real suspect, he did not bother chasing after the space traffic controls, or the taxing departments, the satellite managers or the security companies. After spending about four hours talking to four different corporations, Qui-Gon stationed his R2 unit in a random park. He stretched out his senses to trace any spies that might be following him and was unsurprised to sense an affirmation from the Force, though it could not indicate where or whom. Most likely droids then.

Sign language was something else Qui-Gon planned on teaching Obi-Wan. With a few silent gestures, he had his own droid begin hacking into the networks again, this time to disable the spies. While the R2 unit was busy frying the droids around them, Qui-Gon resliced into the government servers and set up slightly different protocols.

He was far better at hacking than warranted, really, since computers was not really something he enjoyed. Slicing was only interesting because of how unexpected it was, and therefore useful as a tactic.

The R2 unit finished with the spies and gave a confirming warble.

"Very good. I want you to execute these protocols and check all the files again," He said, "Monitor this one carefully, and do a comparison with the data you copied. List everything that has changed."

While the R2 unit did this, Qui-Gon commed the Telosian governor.

"Any reason I'm being stalked by spies?" He asked Xanatos.

_"Pardon?"_

"My droid just fried a bunch of yours. Or secret services, if they happen to be discrete from your department."

Xanatos raised his eyebrows, the hologram somehow accentuating his sinister look. He seemed older, somehow, and though holograms tend to be a bit blurry, he seemed wrinkled and decayed. _"I had no knowledge of any droids stalking you, Master Jedi, though it sounds like you already took care of it."_

"I'm not entirely sure how to take this, you realize," Qui-Gon said neutrally while the R2 unit continued to read data, "You invited me, you see; I never imposed my presence here. If I have done something that you feel threatens your planet, I can pack my things and leave the pirates to your capable hands." Passive-aggressive tactics often damage good-will, but they were too good at accomplishing immediate tasks for him not to use.

 _"I assure you, Master Jinn, it was never our intention for you to feel unwelcome."_ The smile on the governor's face would have looked genuine if Qui-Gon had not known what to look for. _"I will see to the bottom of the matter."_

"Thank you, Governor. I assure you I will see to the bottom of the pirating. I already have several leads I intend to pursue."

 _"Many thanks, Master Jinn."_ Xanatos perked up at this. _"If I may, what kind of leads have you found? If possible, I would like to render assistance."_

Qui-Gon brought up the "leads", since they were as good as anything else to talk about at the moment while his R2 unit continued to browse through the files. He was able to kill about an hour by exchanging thoughts. By the time he closed the connection, the R2 unit was close to finished.

He patted the dome. Droids were fabulous this way.

Ten minutes later, the unit was done.

"Any results?"

An affirmative beep.

"Very good." It was time to head back. He could look over the data there, though he figured after that talk with Xanatos, someone might plant bugs in his room. If that happened, he would act as the situation demanded.

* * *

As Qui-Gon suspected, the secure servers had altered their data from before Qui-Gon interviewed the companies. Either someone hacked from outside, or this was an inside job. There was also some new information added to unrelated matters, but the telling part was the old data—the ones that the public was allowed to view but not edit. Space traffic statistics and certain shuttle carriers had been switched around, and most condemning of all: money from the government budget.

 _Xanatos, Xanatos, what have you been doing?_ Credit fraud was admittedly minor from Qui-Gon's point of view, however, so he tucked away that information for later. The point was to find out the root of it all; what purpose were the pirates serving here?

There were instances when planets employed terrorists and pirates in clandestine. Violence was affective at disrupting certain political movements. Was there anything in the system that Telos might want to either delay or cancel? _Or perhaps there is something going on with the Jedi…_ if Xanatos was actually a Sith, a mere system in the galaxy would be beneath his concerns.

_I must meditate on this._

He planted the R2 unit on guard as he folded his legs and slid into a trance. The currents of the Force washed through him as he sought its directions. Obscure feelings swept across his mind, but did not call to his attention.

Unbidden, thoughts of Obi-Wan entered his mind, as they usually did when he was away from his padawan. What was the little one up to right now? He hoped the child did not find the stash of snacks. Feemor was apparently back, so at least his former padawan could keep the boy in line. Was the youngster feeling alright? He hoped he was not still worried about his master. It had not been easy, leaving the tearful boy like that; he had run out of time and was scheduled to leave the atmosphere, or else he would have made more effort for their parting to be on better terms. He was not completely certain he would ever see him again, after all; the Sith were not foes to be taken lightly.

Almost immediately, an image took shape, faint in the Force, but still present. Telos was a good distance away from Coruscant, and the vision was coming from Obi-Wan, trickling through the bond. Qui-Gon saw Xanatos approaching the same hooded figure he had seen before. It was blurry, but Obi-Wan's sensitivity waveringly honed in on what they were saying.

_"It will not be easy. He is very well protected."_

_"By one whose methods many disapprove of…is just one man, and there are many within his order that are already well on their way to our cause. Use whatever methods you find necessary, but be sure to bring him to me."_

The image changed, fogging over to portray a vast stretch of plains, covered in mist. The sky was a faint purple and the grasses were blue. It was definitely not Telos, but Xanatos was riding on a mount, a group of escorts behind him. The Force rippled and zoomed in on a boy on his right side with pale hair and a slight scowl—Bruck Chun.

 _"He'll be coming along,_ " Said Xanatos, pulling his mount to a stop, _"You may wait for him here."_

_"How long will it take?"_

Xanatos smiled malevolently, _"Not long, young one. Draw the master away, and the one who matters becomes vulnerable. You will come to fully appreciate the art of misdirection."_

The words repeated themselves— _Draw the master away_ , and the Force seemed to zoom out from the planet, from the system, to give a full view of the galaxy, spinning slowly around its axis, millions of stars with their planets and moons. The vision flashed, and he was raising his lightsaber to deflect a torrent of blaster bolts, Mace at his side. They were fighting Togrutans and the words _Khoonda_ and _Enclave_ resonated in his mind. The vision than jerked away, dizzyingly fast. Obi-Wan, skinnier—was someone starving him?—looking up from his work, some homework assignment of some sort, Authsola murmuring, _"Obi? We're being sent on a mission."_ The child's eyes looked haunted, and Authsola knelt by him to brush back his hair. She looked very sad. He saw her stand, and Obi-Wan stood with her, abandoning his work. The scene behind them melted from the temple dorms to a battlefield. Authsola shouted at Obi-Wan to run as she whipped out her lightsaber and blocked a red blade. The child was frozen, hesitant to abandon her. She shouted again but was cut down brutally, dropping to the floor with limbs twitching, and Obi-Wan shrieked _"Master!"_ as a dark shadow swept across Qui-Gon's field of vision. When it passed, it unveiled the Jedi Council chamber, Sifo-Dyas was talking to Tahl. _"The Sith are not interested in economics,"_ He said, _"They are interested in the dynamics of the Force. It is always alternating, like a wave, but sometimes the balance is dependent on particular points. A pivot is an obvious crucial point, but it is not the only one."_ He turned away and Tahl followed. They exited the chamber and disappeared into a hangar, where Qui-Gon's former master, Dooku, was getting ready to board a ship. Behind him was the body of a young woman with brown hair, clad in a white outfit with a smoking blaster wound in the center of her forehead.

Qui-Gon roused from the vision feeling shaken. Seeing Authsola's death had been nerve-wrecking, and admittedly he was more worried about that than anything else in the dream at the moment. Obi-Wan's fate certainly did not seem optimistic either, but at least he did not _die—_ at least not where he could see.

 _I truly detest visions,_ Qui-Gon decided. That meditative trance was fairly saturated with the Unifying Force and was not informative at all. If this was what Obi-Wan saw when he first left Coruscant, no wonder the boy had been inconsolable.

He got up and made himself a pot of tea, his mind running through the events in the vision despite his adamant insistence that it was just delusional and senseless.

Draw the master away…misdirection…did Obi-Wan call Authsola "Master"? He had lost weight, and Authsola had looked sad, and Sifo-Dyas was talking about the dynamics of the Force and how the Sith were not interested in economics. Depa once said that Obi-Wan had to do with Darsant Avat, which just happened to be a dynamic of the Force.

The Sith were not interested in money. Xanatos liked to use misdirection, and had requested Qui-Gon's involvement specifically. The vision indicated that Obi-Wan was no longer his padawan, and the only way that could happen is if Qui-Gon were not there.

"Hm," He said to R2, "I guess the Unifying Force is not _that_ confusing after all."

* * *

There was an ancient Jedi Enclave on Dantooine that use to be a training site for Force-sensitive children, but sometime before the Cold War it had fallen to disuse. Locals around the area claimed that it was haunted or cursed, and that no one who entered ever came out again.

"You think the governor is missing us yet?" Qui-Gon asked as he stepped onto the path that led to the quiet ruins. The R2 unit did not answer.

"They need to give you droids more personality," He muttered, glancing down at the robot. When it still did not respond, he sighed. "Let's see if our Togrutan pirates are hiding in there."

Thanks to Obi-Wan's vision and Qui-Gon's somewhat dishonorable tendencies, Xanatos had not been able to warn the pirates that he was coming. He surprised the lot of them just as they were getting ready to go out for another raid.

Mace was _not_ at his side, but Qui-Gon's Ataru form was not an elementary force, and he deflected all of their blaster bolts with ease before using the Force to draw the weapons away from their hands.

"Well," Qui-Gon said wryly when silence fell; he had run out of one-liners a long time ago but that did not mean he could just stand there and not speak, "I've had worse welcomes before."

Not really—poor welcomes were poor welcomes, and all of them just tended to be bad, especially if he was getting shot at.

"What do you want, _Jedi?_ " One of the Togrutas growled.

Qui-Gon paused. He could cut to the chase and demand evidence of whoever was paying them to raid ships in the system but…that was not very diverting, and after that distressing vision he had, he really wanted to do something fun for a change.

"I want an antique radio with those antennae that you can stick in your ear. You have one of those?"

* * *

Several hours later, after a few engagements between his lightsaber and Togrutan blasters, Qui-Gon finally managed to singlehandedly collect everyone and yank information from them in a less than orthodox manner. Exhausted and a little battered, he used his R2 unit to send a transmission to Coruscant. By this time, Dantooine had arrived on the scene, and Telos was being notified of the situation.

 _"Drunk testimonies are no good in court, Qui-Gon,"_ Shaak Ti, who happened to be a Togruta, looked very peeved at the state of affairs.

"They don't know that. I'll just get them to repeat themselves."

_"You're making this very difficult for the rest of us, Qui-Gon."_

"I'm after something bigger."

_"And what, pray tell, is that?"_

Qui-Gon glanced at the officials arresting the pirates. "Just send Mace. I need him over here before my culprit has a chance to formulate new plans."

_"Qui, you can't keep doing this. Once or twice is already stretching it, and we can't afford it if you are proven wrong—"_

"This isn't about economics, Shaak Ti. Get Mace here and I'll keep you updated. Oh, and Shaak Ti, your people are hilariously intolerant of alcohol—"

_"Qui-Gon!"_

"Going." Qui-Gon cut the connection, before wincing. _Blast it, forgot to ask after Obi-Wan._ The little one seemed alright though, and he had a feeling Shaak Ti would not be too receptive to any requests on his part after that quip. _That woman needs to get a sense of humor._

He went out to talk to the officials, who informed him that the Telosians were on their way. Qui-Gon had no intention of waiting around, so he waved goodbye and hopped on his ship where the R2 unit was waiting. There was a moon where some mischief was happening, and he intended to check it out before the governor figured out his whereabouts.

The R2 unit was a bit languid at takeoff, beeping in low tones and taking a few seconds to process his commands. It must have accumulated too many memory leaks when he told it to process the entire Telosian infrastructure.

"I thought your unit type is supposed to be more robust." It was how the company had marketed their brand of droids. "Didn't they memory-wipe you within this year?" Then again, the droids were not supposed to process such a large bulk of data at once. He might have abused it a little. "I'm going to have to file a report when we get back or else the you might crash on the next Jedi."

The droid did not respond; droids usually did not have much personality unless they were very robust and did not have their memories wiped for a while. The Jedi temple had a med droid that was like that—quirky, to say the least, but very efficient. Most droids, however, get slowed down after a while because of inherent bugs in their programming. He hoped the R2 unit did not crash on _him_ , because there was nothing like a frozen co-pilot to ruin one's day.

"Hang in there," He told the droid, as they left the gravitational field of Dantooine, "Hopefully I can fix you up." He was actually not as familiar with applying robotics skills as he was with slicing. After a moment, he took the R2 unit off the controls and assumed manual supervision of the ship—it was more annoying, but it was safer and would burden the droid less for the duration of their flight.

He pulled the ship to a momentary halt in order to punch in the coordinates. There was a distant flash of light in space…

And then his ship was suddenly rocked with blaster fire.

Qui-Gon pulled the controls without thinking and managed to dodge the remaining onslaught, coordinates only half filled in but his hands already too busy to spare. It was a good thing he took the R2 unit off the controls, or else his ship would have been pulverized. The R2 unit beeped in response to the sudden turbulence, uttering a high whine afterwards.

"Enter the coordinates!" He yelled to it. That, at least, did not require the Jedi reflexes dodging blaster bolts would. Where were the bolts coming from anyway? His shields fluctuated. Seventy-four percent after three hits.

"Not bad," Qui-Gon mused, though the location of the hit mattered when it came to how much shielding was depleted, and only the first bolt actually struck him; the others merely grazed the hull. The R2 unit was puzzled over the half-entered numbers. "Start from the middle!" _By the Force that droid needs a wipe as soon as we're done._ Assuming he ever finished, but that was a morbid thought too ingrained in the future to matter to the present.

Whoever was attacking him was no match for him, even with the lag in the droid's inputs. Once everything was punched in, Qui-Gon used the Force to push the hyperspace lever. The stars streaked and the ship vibrated as it transitioned past light speed. They were safe, for now.

Qui-Gon let out a sigh, slumping in his seat.

"Well, that was unwelcome," He exclaimed, even if it was not completely unexpected. He had not really sensed the arrival of his attacker, but he was very distracted by his R2 unit, which could explain why he had been startled, if not precisely surprised. He knew that Xanatos would not be too thrilled with his unpredictable movements, in particular his unannounced visit to the Togrutans, and would find ways to retaliate somehow. Everyone had a protocol of sorts, and any villain liked to take advantage of this, believing their foes would be upright and lawful. Qui-Gon might be upright, but he was not above being a bit of a miscreant at times, something that had frustrated the Jedi Council on a number of occasions. If the Telosian governor discovered the servers had been hacked, which was improbable but not impossible, things could get very messy, even if he was not a Sith Lord after all.

The Force vibrated as his pursuers also entered hyperspace.

This was turning out to be quite a chase.

* * *

Qui-Gon ended up wasting about two hours leading his pursuers on a wild flight around space before finally losing them. The unfortunate thing about being a Jedi was that his work often pulled him into shenanigans like that.

"I could have done without that," He announced to the R2 unit once they landed. At this point, he was getting a bit tired and was absolutely starving. He did not suppose the blighters he was about to confront had any spare sandwiches…would be good if they did though…

If they had any food, though, it was inaccessible at the moment; the moon was uninhabited, though it had its own version of wildlife and had breathable air, which normally would have welcomed robust sentients to set up shop somehow. In front of Qui-Gon stretched a vast plain of grass that was only interrupted by a few animals and some rocks. When the wind blew, a tuft of dirt sprinkled across, irritating the birds that were feeding in the area.

Qui-Gon glanced at his R2 unit. Droids could be very annoying things. "I'm going to let you sleep for now," He told it, and opened one side of its dome. After turning it off, he took out its memory and slipped it into his tunic. He then considered the ship, but decided there was not much he could do if someone wanted to steal it other than hope the Force was with him.

The moon was truly lovely, and Qui-Gon regretted that he was unable to fully appreciate it. Odd how the Force worked; the best people to appreciate something are exactly the people who could not afford to.

The grass made for poor cover for the Jedi Master, but it also made it easy to see where he was heading. The ground sloped downward and on instinct he stopped to take note. Ahead lied a ravine streaming with water, and he went low on his stomach, crawling the last few meters to peek over the edge.

_Ah._

More pirates, this time with a much more obscure hiding spot than the ones on Dantooine. They were hidden across on the other wall of the ravine in some sort of underground station, the opening obscured by shrubs. The only reason Qui-Gon knew they were there was because at the moment he crawled to the edge, one of the pirates poked his head out, looked around, and then hopped to the surface. Qui-Gon's low height and the angle of the ravine made it impossible for the pirate to see the Jedi, but even so, Qui-Gon remained still, for movement was sure to attract attention and he did not want to cast shadows.

Did he want a sneak attack or a full brute force one like last time? He had the Force, but he was not entirely certain of the layout of the underground network. Sneaking around would be hard even without his rather unique figure. Qui-Gon's tall height and relatively large size made him stand out easily among humans, and of course without proper prosthetics and makeup, he could not pose as other sentients. _Sneaking around might be more to Obi-Wan's advantage,_ he mused. He had no idea how large the boy would grow, but while the child is small, at least, stealth would protect him better…

 _Here and now, Jinn,_ He rebuked himself. The task at hand was to weed out Xanatos, not really to get rid of the pirates, though the pirates were, of course, very important. He wanted Xanatos rattled, confused, panicky, even, and the best way to go about it is to be incomprehensible. He could root out the pirates in person and be forced to kill a lot of them…

Or he could just create a mess in the area and bring Xanatos running without really soiling his hands.

With that in mind, Qui-Gon crawled backward and hurried back to his ship.


	16. Setting Stages

Upon arriving back at the ship, Qui-Gon was annoyed to find that his R2 unit had died.

 _There goes my backup plan for sky traffic._ He opened some compartments to take a look, but it was a problem with its operating system and he had no means to re-install. Not without hacking into the company that made the R2 unit, anyway, and Qui-Gon had just about enough slicing for the day.

Still, he checked the R2 over to make sure it did not die because of foulplay, and then left the moon while suppressing yawns. _Force,_ he has had a long day, and without food for the most part.

Du Crion was there to greet him when he arrived back to Telos.

"Master Jinn," Said the governor, "We were getting worried when we couldn't find you. I am glad you are safe."

Qui-Gon smiled at this. "Forgive me, Governor. I was checking on some leads. Unfortunately they haven't led me anywhere that I could use yet." There was enough truth to that remark for it to slide.

"Ah," Said Xanatos, while Qui-Gon suppressed a yawn, "Well, the good news is, we did catch one group of pirates. The officers are interrogating them now, we will let you know as soon as there are any results."

"Excellent. Hopefully this will bring us closer to an end to all this," Qui-Gon covered his mouth to stem another yawn. "I'm going to make a quick call."

* * *

Obi-Wan was in the middle of doing homework when the comm. connected. He was sporting a bacta patch over his forehead.

"Are you alright?" Qui-Gon pointed at the patch, "What is that up there?"

 _"…"_ Obi-Wan seemed reluctant to divulge, but through the bond came a stream of images. Bruck Chun and Aalto, pushing the boy on the stairs. He seemed to have had other injuries as well, though none of them severe. Even so, Qui-Gon found himself gritting his teeth, suddenly wide awake and very very angry.

Did the adults know?

"Who put that bacta on you?"

 _"Authsola,"_ Obi-Wan answered. _"She's bringing this up to Master Yoda…it's not really a big deal, it's just a small cut that bled a lot. The healers said that headwounds bleed a lot, but she was really upset."_

"Did you feel dizzy? Do you feel dizzy now?"

Obi-Wan pouted a little. _"I don't feel anything. It's itchy, but I'm fine."_

His padawan was telling the truth, so Qui-Gon let it go for now. It seemed like Authsola was handling things adequately enough. Yoda was going to have a fit though. He hoped Aalto will leave the temple soon; no master wants a padawan who bullies others.

"Tell me what happened."

Obi-Wan made a face. _"It's no big deal…"_

"Authsola seems to disagree with you."

 _"Yeah…it's just Chun and Alto—well, it sort of came out of the blue—I was actually trying to_ avoid _them, but I ended up running into them at the stairs. Chun was really mad, and I still don't know what he was yelling about, and Aalto was there too. He snatched one of my datapads and I was trying to get it when he pushed me down the stairs. That's all. I wasn't hurt all that bad."_ He made a face. _"I don't know what their problem is; I didn't even talk to them for like, months. We just sort of ignored each other."_

Qui-Gon leaned forward. "Next time, Obi-Wan, if someone is attacking you, don't get distracted by material objects. A smashed datapad can be replaced, but you're more important than any electronic, understand? If someone takes away your lightsaber, let them. It's better to lose your lightsaber than your life."

 _"I thought the lightsaber_ is _our life."_

"Yes, well, that is only because it can be used against you, which would not happen if you are paying attention to your opponent. Your foe can have ten thousand lightsabers and he wouldn't be able to hurt even the hair on your head if you pay attention and react to his attacks. On the other hand, your enemy doesn't even need a lightsaber to hurt you if you allow yourself to get distracted."

Obi-Wan still looked incredibly displeased, which was probably natural. From the looks of it, the child was kicking himself over the mistake.

"This isn't your fault," Said Qui-Gon, "You were supposed to be safe within the temple. You weren't supposed to be wary of your peers. Why are you embarrassed?"

Obi-Wan bit his lip.

"Stop chewing on your lip."

His little one obeyed. _"No one else gets into these things,"_ He complained, _"Is there something wrong with me?"_

That was a complicated question to answer, but Qui-Gon opted for simple and sufficient.

"No, there is nothing wrong with you, Obi-Wan. You're young, you were young when you were chosen—that attracts some attention, both good and bad."

 _"I was dealing with Chun and Aalto before you chose me though."_ A wave of self-doubt crossed over the bond. _"It's not like this started just because of that."_

Could he risk boosting Obi-Wan's ego? He could risk it, especially if he did this carefully.

"You think your master would choose just anyone?"

Obi-Wan appeared confused, as if he had originally been thinking that but was suddenly realizing how irrational that had been.

"I'm sure Bruck Chun and his friend Aalto knew you were special from the start," He went on, "Some people are just like that. It doesn't mean there is anything wrong with you, it has to do with them. This can happen with anyone. As long as you do not allow yourself to pick up vice from others, you will do well. Think about all the friends you've made, that your fellow Jedi haven't yet. There were a lot of privileges you enjoy as my padawan that your friends don't share yet. What Chun and Aalto did was unforgivable, but it is just something you have to watch out for, and it has nothing to do with any flaws on your part."

 _"I don't get it,"_ Obi-Wan declared with a slight whine, but he seemed tired of the conversation. _"When are you coming back?"_

Figuring that dealing with people was something youngsters have to learn at their own pace anyway, Qui-Gon let the matter drop. This was not a conversation to be had over the comm. at any rate. "Probably not for a while, padawan. Patience. I don't like being away any more than you do."

Obi-Wan looked miserably at him. The affair with Chun and Aalto had shaken his padawan's mentality more than the boy was willing to admit. Qui-Gon could sense him longing for his master to be with him.

"Hey," He said softly, "You're a strong lad. You can handle a few days without Master around, hm?"

Obi-Wan made a face. _"Uh-huh. It's_ you _I'm worried about."_

The Jedi Master chuckled. "Of course. Don't get strung up on that incident, alright, Padawan? How are classes going?"

 _"They're good!"_ Obi-Wan launched into a detailed summary of his day, reminding Qui-Gon strongly of their very first day together as master and padawan. His little one was quite the talker.

 _"Bail called again today,"_ His little one went on, _"He's been contacting Master Yoda about letting me attend the wedding as ring bearer. I don't know, Yoda doesn't seem too enthu-enthu…enthusias-tic about that."_ Satisfied that he pronounced the word correctly, the child continued, _"He hasn't given Bail an answer. I think he doesn't want me to go. I kind of hope he would, because I really want to see a wedding."_

"Hm." This was an interesting development. "Have you talked to Master Yoda about this?"

_"No…I didn't want him to think I want to go too much. He'd say no."_

Qui-Gon tilted his head. "Why do you think he would say no, Obi-Wan?"

_"Just a feeling. I don't know. I feel like if I'm too excited about it, it would be bad."_

There was more insight into that statement than Obi-Wan was able to adequately articulate.

"Master Yoda wants to protect you, my little one. If you go to the wedding as ring bearer you'll draw even more attention, the kinds I told you about."

 _"Hm."_ Obi-Wan's eyes were bright with intelligence as he absorbed this. _"Well, we'll see what happens."_

Qui-Gon chuckled. "Yes we will."

* * *

The first day after Qui-Gon's arrival was spent discussing the results from the interrogations, which led to nowhere Qui-Gon was interested in, but he allowed the Telosian officials to get excited over their "breakthroughs". He also had his R2 unit sent to get repaired; there was no way to avoid doing so because the Telosians noticed the droid was deactivated, and Qui-Gon could not withhold it from them without seeming suspicious. He was rather certain the unit would get bugged, so he was not too eager to begin using it.

"Next time give it some ice packs," Said a woman from the information technology department, "Its cooling system wasn't enough to cool it off. If you're going to tell it to process a lot of data, you have to watch out for overheating."

"It wasn't _that_ much data," Qui-Gon insisted, even though it was, but he did not want anyone knowing that he had hacked into the government servers.

"Well whatever it was, it's broken due to overheating, so there you go. Where's the memory core?"

"It was starting to lag, so I took it out."

"I see. Good precaution, Master Jedi. Probably saved everything in that case."

The next two days involved following Telosians around as they searched various leads. They did manage to root out some pirates, though Qui-Gon never had to activate his lightsaber during any of these encounters. Mace arrived the evening of the last day with Depa to the Coruscanti embassy, neither of whom were dressed as Jedi.

"I didn't know you were coming," Qui-Gon said to Depa when the Jedi were alone. "What's with the disguise?"

"It was Master Yoda's suggestion, actually. Three Jedi for Telos IV would be a bit much, but he seems to believe there is more to this mission." Depa adjusted her skirt.

"Are you a prostitute?"

"I might as well be," She stared down at her cleavage as if she had never seen it before.

"So you are Mace's mistress?"

"I'm his cousin, actually," Said Depa.

"You don't look like him at all."

"By marriage."

"Is this really necessary?" Qui-Gon asked, a bit sympathetic. He had raised Authsola, after all, and as her mentor, he understood the aggravation of such a disguise.

"It's about as far from a Jedi as I could get."

"Fair enough."

Mace actually looked more irritated by the situation than his former padawan did. The look worked for their made-up relationship, however.

"Try to drape over Xanatos," Said Qui-Gon, "He's a handsome bloke so it should work. Plus he's governor so he is a big fish, that should spare you having to seduce too many other people."

"I really don't appreciate this part of the job," Mace complained.

Qui-Gon was glad his padawan was not a girl. Not that young boys were always spared this sort of thing.

"As long as I don't have to sleep with him," Said Depa.

The Sith were not really the most virile lot, but Qui-Gon could not say that without sounding like he was crazy. "Maybe the governor likes men more." He glanced at Mace with an impish grin. "Come to think of it, he does sort of doll himself up. What do you think? Willing to do what it takes, Master Windu?"

"Shut up, Qui." Mace was no more fond of the idea of himself becoming the target than he was the idea of Depa. "The situation is bad enough as it is. Go away."

"Hopefully the issue will be solved," Said Depa, futilely adjusting her breastband and left the two men behind to stalk into the embassy.

"Hey, it could be worse," Said Qui-Gon to his upset companion.

"Oh _how_ could it possibly be worse?"

"Did you really just say that?"

"No, no I didn't." Mace sighed.

* * *

Depa and Mace fell into character the instant they reached public eye, with the former every bit the promiscuous young woman and the latter every bit the long-suffering cousin. While Qui-Gon worked with the higher officials in upscale institutions, Mace and Depa were allocated the more interesting if somewhat unpleasant task of working with the same officials in less respectable settings. People tended to be on their best behavior in official environments, so unsurprisingly, Depa and Mace rooted out several conspiracy theories that Qui-Gon had not even come across, even before they encountered Xanatos.

"Are you sure your R2 is bugged?" Mace asked when they decided that some confirmation was necessary.

"I'm pretty sure I don't want to use it for anything important."

"We can transmit the information to Coruscant…"

"Because a slicer from Coruscant would totally slip by their notice," Qui-Gon pointed out dryly, "It's going to take too long to search for a bug in the R2 unit."

"I don't sense anything amiss," Depa stated.

That was that, and Qui-Gon was relieved to hear it. They turned on the droid and had it scanning the files in the memory chip Qui-Gon had whisked away before it broke, careful to keep the search parameters small so it would not break again.

"There's definitely something wrong with the governor," Mace told Qui-Gon, "I'm not surprised if you knew that already."

The Jedi Master simply smirked.

"There is a particular darkness about him," Said Depa, "I am almost certain he is Force-sensitive, though I can only guess how much. There might be a rogue Jedi behind this, if he turns out to have trained under one."

"Getting close to him will be dangerous," Mace noted.

"But only if he suspects his cover is blown," said Qui-Gon, "And that you two are Jedi working with me." He had a certain confidence in Depa's shields—she was good at what she did, so he was not too worried about that. "I would advise, get proof, get details, but don't show that you understand them, even if the opportunity seems prime. We should target the rogue Jedi first. Xanatos is in the public eye, so it would be relatively easy to corner him. It's the master that we want, and I don't think it is wise for any of us to approach him individually."

"Why?" Mace countered, "You think the master is that skilled that it would require three Jedi Masters? Is there some reason you believe that?"

Qui-Gon was very tempted to tell the whole truth, but it would be more effective to withhold information. "I've had nothing definitive, but normal rogue Jedi are very impulsive. Despite his clear darkness, Du Crion is a calculated individual, which speaks the same of his master. This isn't a normal rogue Jedi, if it even is one."

"Why? You think it's a Sith?" Depa asked perceptively.

Dealing with masters could be frustrating in this way—it was very hard to hide anything from them. "There are other Force users than Jedi, after all," was all Qui-Gon said.

"That is certainly true. I, for one, agree with this plan," Depa turned to her former master just as the R2 unit beeped, indicating it had completed its directive. A series of holoimages sprang up from its dome.

"Hm." The three masters glanced at the numbers and letters. One of the names happened to be the moon Qui-Gon had left the pirates on, but there were several interesting transmission sources—Naboo was the strangest, since it was such a random planet to be involved with Telos.

"So you blow up the moon, I'll check out Naboo," Said Qui-Gon. "And Depa can get close to Xanatos and his cronies."

"So let me get this straight, you don't actually care if I blow up people, you just want there to be explosions there?"

"I want people's attention there," Said Qui-Gon, "Once you have everything set up, I want Depa to see what Xanatos' reaction is. Since she's not supposed to be involved with any sort of investigation, he wouldn't try to hide things from her. I want to see what he does, what time he made transmissions, if any, where to, and we can follow up on that. But I also want to check out Naboo."

"Sounds good to me." Mace nodded as he glanced at Depa, who wore a look of slight irritation at her upcoming duties.

"He might prefer men," Qui-Gon insisted, earning himself a smack on the back on the head from Mace.


	17. Theed

Showing up unannounced was bad form, but since this was a last-minute arrangement, Qui-Gon did not feel the need to report ahead. It was a bit of a rough landing due to some turbulence, but he settled down easily enough when the time came and made his way to the palace. The current monarch was some twelve-year-old queen with a painted white face, a gown that seemed to swallow her, and a wig so heavy that her head wobbled on her thin neck as she tried to balance everything.

"Master Jedi," Said the child with all the gravity of an adult—someone should tell these girls that being regal did not actually mean being humorless. "I was not notified of your coming."

Naboo's business with electing children to become monarchs made for very awkward situations because none of the Jedi ever figured out exactly how they should speak to the sovereign. Talking to her as if she were a child seemed patronizing. Talking to her as an adult…there was no way he could consider her an adult.

Still, civility was civility, whether great or small.

"My apologies, Your Majesty—I did not send word, this is a rather delicate emergency, but I wish to speak to your senator."

"Senator Palpatine departed for Coruscant just yesterday," The child said with only a slight hint of apology, because she was setting her face too stoically to convey much emotion. "What is the problem?"

 _Bugger all this._ "Do you know of any negotiations with Telos IV?"

The Queen paused. "Telos IV?" She echoed, thoroughly confused. "Interplanetary affairs would be something the senator should know more of, but what is the nature of these negotiations?"

 _Would Obi-Wan be able to use such big words when he turns twelve?_ Qui-Gon could not help but think of how his padawan still stutters over words he was not sure of. Certainly Feemor and Authsola had never been so absurd. He was completely floored by the Queen's diction.

"I am not certain," He answered after collecting his wits, "I was actually hoping he could give me some information about Telos." That was a nice way of avoiding he suspected the Senator of Naboo of being involved in foulplay—no one on Naboo would have taken kindly to that. "Perhaps I can speak to his staff."

Children tend to be more guileless than their adult counterparts, even if they took to speaking in outrageously formal sentences.

"That can be arranged," Said the girl, lifting her arm with its giant sleeve at one of her handmaidens. "Please notify the senator's office."

Qui-Gon watched as her wig overbalanced a little and she had to make a concerted effort to straighten her neck.

 _That can't be good for their health._ The gown looked hot too. He wondered how these people have not had heat stroke, among other complications. Come to think of it, those gowns were big enough to hide cooling units…

He wondered if Naboo will ever realize that overdressing their children like this makes it harder to take their monarchs seriously, not easier.

The handmaiden returned eventually to report that he could go to the senator's office.

"Please escort Master Jedi there, Andwé," Said the Queen. Qui-Gon noted that the handmaiden was also a young teenager, if a bit taller. Her face was the same shape as the Queen's, even with the differences in white paint, and the nose…

Wait a minute, did they have the same face?

* * *

"I have no such record of what you say in our system, Master Jinn," Said the secretary as she looked up the computer. She turned the screen around. "You can look for yourself."

Qui-Gon stroked his beard absently as he looked through the list. "Does he make all of his appointments through you?" He asked.

"He should," Said the secretary, "Since that is my job. If there had been any correlation with Telos, perhaps it was done outside of the government here."

Or the Senator deleted the proof of any such encounters, but Qui-Gon could not bring this up before her.

He asked a few more questions, but already it seemed like a dead end. Naboo was involved somehow, but he was not sure how and he could not prove it. He inquired about the senator himself, but his staff had nothing but good words for him, and what was more curious was that they all meant it.

"He is like the father I never had," Said an intern, "He's always looking out for me. It's incredible, really. He always makes time for his staff, and one time when my mother was sick and we couldn't afford to pay for her surgery, he paid for it out of his own pocket. Said it was the least he could do for all the good work I have done."

Qui-Gon was a Jedi long enough to know that when something sounds too good to be true, it usually is. This senator could be trouble, and who knows what sinister agendas he might have. He might even be the Sith master Qui-Gon was looking for.

"He sounds like a wonderful man," He said to the intern, "It's very heartening to hear about such compassionate people."

He left the office feeling a little bit exasperated by what turned out to be a fruitless trip, but before he could leave the building, he noted—what was her name? Andwé? Waiting and trying very hard not to be noticed. She was doing a good job; she had changed out of her handmaiden uniform and looked like some relative of an employee in the building.

"Master Jedi," She said in a low tone, "Please, we need your help."

Qui-Gon glanced at her, thought for a moment that she was not that much older than Obi-Wan, and wondered just how smart these kids from Naboo were that they could stumble their way through the maze that was politics.

"What can I do for you?" He asked cautiously.

She looked scared, and Qui-Gon felt sorry for her.

"Perhaps we should go somewhere more private," He suggested gently.

She nodded. "That will be best."

* * *

"I can't say it in front of others," Said Andwé, "But I don't feel Senator Palpatine is what he seems to be. Her Majesty has the utmost faith in him, but…there is something not right with him. I fear for her life, and I fear that Senator Palpatine might try to harm her." She looked desperately at Qui-Gon. "Please, you have to believe me."

The Force did work in mysterious ways. Qui-Gon looked into her eyes, stretching out his senses. _Mildly Force-sensitive,_ He thought, _Not enough to be brought to the temple, but enough to notice some things._ In his experience, the weaker Force-sensitive individuals were actually sometimes even better at detecting what was vital than Jedi Masters, because Jedi Masters were so sensitive they were distracted by other aspects of the Force.

"Your Queen does not listen to him all the time, does she?" He guessed. "By utmost faith in him, you actually mean she believes he means the best for her, but she does not always take his advice."

The handmaiden paused slightly. "Yes," She said, a little startled by his insight, "My Lady is young, but she is capable, and she knows not to listen to only one advisor. However, Senator Palpatine wants complete influence over her."

It was easy to see the handmaiden was not really that well trained in dealing _with_ politics, even if she was good at observing them. The fact that the senator was not actually _here_ did not help matters, however, nor did the fact that all his staff members approve of him wholeheartedly.

"I'm currently working with other Jedi Masters on another mission," He told her, "But as I feel that the senator might be involved somehow, I will notify them and will endeavor to remain. You feel the Queen's life is in danger now?"

"He doesn't have to be present to make an attempt on her life," The girl pointed out, "And in fact, it is best that he _is_ not present. That way he can feign ignorance when he returns. There was no good reason for him to make a trip to Coruscant."

"How do you know this?"

"The senate is in recess, he has to report to the Queen if there is any business and he hasn't."

 _Ah._ "And your Queen trusts him and let him go regardless."

"He told her it was a sensitive matter," The girl worried her lip, and Qui-Gon had to fight the urge to stop her the way he would Obi-Wan—she was not his padawan, after all, "That he will report back when it has concluded. That is not standard protocol."

"Alright," Qui-Gon said soothingly, "We'll see what is going on."

* * *

 _"The governor contacted this frequency after the explosion on the moon,"_ Mace reported, _"But I can't trace where it leads to. It's heavily encrypted. There's some sort of password chain that has to be entered before the call can actually go through."_

"What is that?" Qui-Gon's mind drew a blank when he read the numbers. "What system is that? What _rim_ is that area code? That doesn't look like any Republic-issued area code."

_"I don't know. Customizable frequencies have always been a thing, not to mention personally-generated ones. If you're a good enough engineer, you can hook your own comm-line and leech on established fiberhyperoptics."_

Qui-Gon sighed. "This is the part where I tell you that you should paid more attention to computer classes, Mace. I have this issue on Naboo right now, I can't go to Telos yet. You have the droid, try to make sure it doesn't get bugged by someone."

_"Your droid is lagging a lot. I thought R2 units were supposed to be more robust."_

Qui-Gon sighed again. "Well I can't do anything about that. It's not my fault. Go talk to the company who manufactured these things. Maybe we got a lemon. In the meantime try to do what you can, maybe turn the R2 unit off and turn it back on again, for some reason that works with anything that computes."

_"I already did that."_

"Well then turn it off and wait _ten seconds_ before turning it back on again. I'm not going to play IT with you when I'm all the way on Naboo. How is Depa doing?"

_"She's hanging in there. There hasn't been a need for her to Force suggest anyone into not sleeping with her yet. If the Force is with us, there never will. You're also in a better position to send a message to the Council—if you think the senator is someone to worry about, perhaps send someone to keep a discreet eye on him."_

"I will. May the Force be with you."

_"And with you, though by the Force I probably need it more. As does Depa. I'll talk to you later."_

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes when the connection closed. "Whiner. I had to fight through a whole group of bandits without eating for an entire day, or sleeping for forty hours. All he did was pretend to be a scoundrel."

Despite her worry, Andwé giggled a little at this. She seemed a little more at ease after hearing the exchange between him and Mace.

"Alright," He said to her, "How are we going to do this?"

The child blinked. "I…I'm not sure."

"It's alright," He assured her. She was young, and probably was more worried about getting help than what to do with it. "Your Queen is not amenable to suggestions from you in regards to this issue, I take it?"

"I was hoping that perhaps you can convince her, Master Jinn."

"Would she trust a Jedi over a senator?"

"She is an intelligent woman, Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon found himself biting his lip like his padawan, because never in a million years would he ever consider a twelve-year-old a "woman". For crying out loud, the robes hid everything but he doubted the Queen even reached puberty yet. Still, sometimes wisdom could be found in the young.

As he turned around, a vision struck him with such force it felt like a physical blow. The Sith Master was on Coruscant, watching the Jedi Temple from an angle Qui-Gon could not quite make out. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan was with Feemor and his padawan; they were heading out to a street fair and Qui-Gon could see giant balloons shaped like hot-pink birds. The two padawans got cottony candy, and then his perspective zoomed out into the stratosphere. Dark shadows plunged toward the planet, as if the universe were crushing into it, and sped toward his padawan who was still eating his candy, blissfully unaware. It narrowed into a primitive spear and skewered right through him. The child stumbled a little, but did not seem to notice what happened. Meanwhile, the shadows continued to fly away. A piece of Obi-Wan's Force signature went missing.

When the vision ended and Naboo's government headquarters materialized around him, Qui-Gon had to crouch down to wait for the disorientation to pass.

"Master? Master Jinn? Are you alright?"

Qui-Gon did not answer immediately. _ _Draw the master away, and the one who matters becomes vulnerable.__ Sith, Obi-Wan was in danger, but heading back to Coruscant was not an option.

When in doubt, hyperspace was always the safest place to be, even though it was not exactly a place—but that was exactly why it was so safe; the Force was present there, but only functioned within the barriers of the vessel carrying the Force-user due to how reality was maintained. If he could not go to Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan will have to come to him.

"I need to make another call," He told Andwé.

* * *

 _ _"He's been fine,"__ Authsola seemed a bit disheartened, _"He hasn't been anxious, or anything."_

"It's not you," Qui-Gon insisted, "I trust you, Authsola, and I trust Feemor. I can't really explain it. Obi-Wan and I have a unique bond. We seem to transfer our talents to each other. He is very strong in the Unifying Force, but whenever I receive one of his visions, he does not get them."

__"You're still receiving visions, Master?"_ _

"On occasion, don't tell the others," Qui-Gon paused, "Sifo-Dyas knows, Yoda might know. The others don't, and I want it to stay that way for now. It's why I'm being more erratic than usual, but what I sensed wasn't a physical attack, it was an attack through the Force, and can happen anywhere. I think you are very capable of protecting him, but it's probably better if I were nearby because I have this bond with him."

__"What about the other Jedi padawans?"_ _

"That's the thing," Qui-Gon paused again, "For some reason, this threat seems to be targeting Obi-Wan in particular."

 _ _"There is something odd about him,"__ Authsola frowned, _"I'll bring him to you, in that case. Perhaps I can even help out."_

Four Jedi tackling pirates. If they do not resolve this issue with Telos, the council will have a collective apoplexy.

"Thanks a lot, Authsola," Qui-Gon said sincerely.

__"Not a problem, Master. Stay safe, and may the Force be with you."_ _

"And with you."

* * *

Convincing the Queen turned out to be very easy. Qui-Gon was a better diplomat than Andwé, and all he had to say was that there might be an attempt on her life while her political mentor, Palpatine, was away from planet. He did not have to go into any detail besides that, and the senator's allegiances were left out of the conversation.

In the meantime, he did a little digging, which mainly involved sitting for hours in front of a computer with the help of a much more chattery R2 unit supplied by the palace, repeated updates from Mace and Depa, though mostly Mace, about the Telosian governor's odd behaviors, and keeping tabs on the Council. As these things sometimes do, after a few days of no activity whatsoever, everything happened at once.

In the early hours of the morning on Naboo, his little one and Authsola arrived. Obi-Wan, adorably sleepy but very happy to see his master, allowed himself to be hoisted up into Qui-Gon's arms, where he promptly fell asleep on his master's shoulder. The bacta patch was gone, though there was still a tiny remnant of a scar that should go away soon enough. The Force bubbled between them, gentle like carbonated drink, and the Jedi Master allowed himself to indulge in a moment of relief and contentment that his little one was here.

Then he remembered that they were guests and their hosts were waiting. Qui-Gon tried bumping the child up and down to wake him up, but the boy was so tired his breathing sounded almost like snores.

"He's been too excited to sleep for the first two nights," Authsola told Qui-Gon apologetically, "There you go."

Behind them, the Queen and her handmaidens were too close to Obi-Wan's age to fully appreciate the scene, but the guards were all sporting tiny smirks and a couple of them winked at each other. Qui-Gon glanced at the Queen, then at his little one, and released a long-suffering sigh.

"He's not going to wake up for this is he?"

"I don't think so," Said Authsola, smoothing the boy's hair.

The Queen was actually smiling a little. Qui-Gon settled for introducing Authsola and provided a one-sided introduction of his sleepy padawan with some apologies that the Queen accepted.

"I have a little brother," She said to him, "He is not unlike Padawan Kenobi." She made arrangements for the child to be put to bed.

On Telos, Mace reported that Xanatos had left planet.

 _ _"Not for Coruscant, or any planet he'd have reason to go to,"__ He told Qui-Gon, _"For Naboo. Is he supposed to know that's where you are?"_

Well _Sith._ Maybe he should bring Obi-Wan on missions more often. Things were certainly picking up momentum now that the child was here.

 _"It's secret too,"_ Mace went on, _"So whatever he's going to Naboo for, it isn't for anything…proper."_

Meanwhile, Kit and Shaak Ti reported that the Senator of Naboo paid a surprise visit to the Jedi Temple upon his arrival.

 _"We're not sure what he was here for,"_ Shaak Ti said to him, _"We did not let him linger long. He said a lot of nothing. He has some issues, that is for certain. The only question is whether it is related to the Jedi, or if he merely wanted to consider us as a solution."_

 _"It was very peculiar,_ " Kit supplemented, _"He kept pausing as if to gather his thoughts. I didn't understand a single sentence of his, besides the greeting and farewell. Quite abnormal in a politician—well, not really, but the pausing was. Perhaps he had some pathology in his brain."_

Qui-Gon told Mace to break cover and for Depa to keep hers, so they could at least flush out (or blast out) the pirates while the governor was away. The Jedi on Coruscant kept an eye on the senator's movements, but all the senator did was meet with a few officials before taking off—toward Telos.

Obi-Wan stole the Queen's wig. Qui-Gon had no idea how he did it.

"Can I take a holopicture of this?" The little rascal asked, using both hands to support the monstrosity on top of his head, "It's so heavy! It weighs a _ton!_ The Queen must have the strongest neck in the galaxy! Authsola! You should try it on!"

"Padawan Kenobi, you put that wig back where you found it _right now_."

"Why? It's not like she even likes this thing."

"It's not yours, Obi-Wan. You do understand the concept of personal belongings. Put it back."

"Can I have a picture of it first?"

"No."

"She wouldn't have minded," Obi-Wan grew plaintive, "She hates this thing. It takes hours to glue to her hair so she has to wake up before the sun comes up in order to attend court."

"That doesn't make it right. Put that back, or else you won't like what I'll do to you."

"It's not _real_ stealing if I give it back…"

"You know that is false. I'm not going to repeat myself, Obi-Wan."

The brat got his picture anyway, with the help of Andwé who took said picture, in which Obi-Wan posed with a variety of goofy expressions under the elaborate wig. He was also not nearly as contrite as Qui-Gon hoped he would have been, but given the circumstances it was probably too much to ask for. Apparently, while Qui-Gon was dealing with Mace and Shaak Ti, Obi-Wan had charmed the royal court.

"Naughty youngster," Authsola remarked, unable to say much more than that.

Qui-Gon punished Obi-Wan by making the boy do homework brought from Coruscant. He struggled a little with the instinct to keep Obi-Wan away from Xanatos and the knowledge that separating himself from his padawan was exactly what the Sith wanted. As long as they did not know he was on to them, they would probably wait. Qui-Gon was not a Jedi Master for nothing, and Authsola had learned well. Between the two of them, surely they could take care of a single padawan?

And then there was no time left to second-guess himself. Amidst lightning and thunder and torrents of rain, the Governor of Telos arrived on Naboo.

 


	18. First Encounter

 

The rain was so heavy that the air seemed saturated with water. Xanatos came on a small ship that was undecorated. Authsola, Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon waited in the shadows, keeping quiet and tightly shielded, especially the little one because Obi-Wan was especially bright in the Force, and watched the governor stalk out with that familiar black cloak, right into the rain, not even waiting for his ruffled pilot to bring an umbrella out for him.

The child huddled close to him, noticeably nervous when Xanatos appeared. Authsola also seemed unnerved.

"I don't like his face," She whispered. "It can probably make babies cry."

Qui-Gon doubted anyone would look too likeable if they were sporting the frown the governor had. The man looked around and appeared to be waiting impatiently for someone.

"What do you know?" Qui-Gon murmured, "Maybe we'll see both after all."

"Both what?" Authsola asked.

"Ac-ac…accomplice," Said Obi-Wan. He huddled tighter to Qui-Gon and his teeth chattered a little.

Qui-Gon hugged the boy close to keep him warm as rain continued to fall. His cloak was not very waterproof, but he was big and Obi-Wan was small. It was Authsola he was actually more worried about, but her cloak was more waterproof than his.

Authsola frowned, turning her head to regard the boy, and for a moment Qui-Gon was many years in the past—from here her profile was so similar to a stance she once took as a fifteen-year-old padawan. Was it just the trick of light, or was he actually seeing the part of his former padawan that had been that child?

Someone appeared to comm. the governor, though the rain made it difficult to hear. Qui-Gon enhanced himself through the Force to listen to the conversation.

Xanatos spoke first, without preamble.

"The master is all over the place," He growled, "He is not like other Jedi. He's ratted out some pirate bases ahead of schedule and has come to Naboo. Should I take care of the Queen?"

 _"Not unless necessary,"_ Came the reply, _"The master is…more than I have anticipated. Perhaps he does not care for the safety of his padawan after all, but the boy is not here. The Queen is a waste of time. Kill the master and take the boy. Use whichever means you deem fit, but be sure to maintain your cover."_

"Yes, Master."

Authsola frowned even more, turning a questioning glance Qui-Gon's way. She had used the same trick and had heard.

 _Padawan?_ She mouthed, glancing at Obi-Wan, _Padawan?_

Qui-Gon gave her an affirmative glance.

It seemed like the Sith master had factored in the Queen of Naboo into his plans somehow; he spoke of her with familiarity, as if they had discussed her before. This, combined with what Handmaiden Andwé told Qui-Gon about the senator, suggested that Palpatine was probably influenced by the Sith somehow. The Queen was in grave danger.

He waited until Xanatos disappeared off the ramp before turning to Obi-Wan.

"Padawan, I want you to go to the Queen, stay with her." This way, he could protect the two of them at once. "Tell her that Authsola and I are chasing after a possible assassin."

Anxious, Obi-Wan tugged on the bond as he murmured, "What if something happens?"

"I will tell you what to do through our bond," He pointed at their temples, "I'll be right there with you. If anything happens, you let me know, alright?"

Authsola blinked at this; she probably did not know the extent of their bond.

"Come," Qui-Gon said to his padawan, "We'll go together to the palace, and you go to the Queen."

* * *

Ten minutes later found Qui-Gon and Authsola dashing through the forests of Naboo in the pouring rain as the governor raced ahead. Xanatos had taken the trouble of donning a black cloak like those Dark Jedi like to wear. It was a little hard to keep track of him, even with the Force.

Authsola ducked away, intending to cut the man off. Qui-Gon was not sure how she intended to, since so far they had been moving in a straight line. Sure enough, however, Xanatos made a turn, and he saw the bright green lightsaber of his former padawan clash with his red one. The blades sparked in quick succession as Xanatos tried to overwhelm her, but Authsola merely had to keep him occupied until Qui-Gon caught up, so she held her ground without actively seeking the advantage as long as they were evenly matched.

The Force helped Qui-Gon navigate across the muddy paths, but could not negate how heavy his drenched robes were, and running was very difficult. By the time Qui-Gon caught up, Xanatos was able to break away from Authsola, and the chase was on again, this time toward civilization.

Qui-Gon picked up speed, because he did not want Xanatos to reach Obi-Wan and the Queen. Naboo forces stood no chance against the Sith apprentice, and neither, really, did his padawan, unless the Force decided to act on its own through the boy. Unbidden, the thought of _Darsant Avat_ penetrated his thoughts, but it was fleeting because he had to focus on the task at hand. Either way, his main goal was to stop Xanatos, hopefully before he gets too close to innocent bystanders.

He caught up to the younger man and swung his lightsaber for the lethal blow, but Xanatos had the Force as well and blocked. Qui-Gon's acrobatic style was less efficient in the wilderness and mud, so he shifted to a more subtle form that would also allow Authsola to strike her own blows. Thunder cracked overhead as lightning illuminated the governor's face with dark shadows.

Xanatos managed to break away again, and the two Jedi gave chase. Instinct made Qui-Gon raise his lightsaber just as lightning shot from the man's fingers. He blinked, dumbfounded, as the sparkles dissipated against his blade.

_What Sith trick was that?_

They neared the walls to the city, leaving the trees behind, Xanatos with his red blade and Qui-Gon and Authsola close behind. The Jedi Master was just about to send a warning to his padawan when from the tops of the walls came blasterfire, all aimed at Xanatos. The Sith deflected all of them, but veered away from the wall. Authsola slowed, and Qui-Gon followed suit. They would continue giving chase, but the blaster bolts would then be fired from behind them and that was a nuisance they could do without while it was raining.

"Force take it," Authsola swore, as the Sith disappeared into the trees, "Was that a Sith?"

"Undoubtedly," Qui-Gon replied, his attention focused on his own padawan. The boy seemed fine, if a bit agitated. "That lightning trick is probably one of their techniques."

"Force take it," His former student exclaimed again, "What are we going to do? He'll be back."

"Stay in the present, padawan mine," Qui-Gon reminded her, "We did the best we could, there is nothing but to let him go for now. I suspect we shall meet again soon." _Especially if he is after my Obi-Wan._ He wondered if he should consult Sifo-Dyas about this—the Jedi Master had warned that Qui-Gon had been kept in the dark about the Sith back when Obi-Wan was nine. Now that the boy was ten, did that mean he was old enough to play a decoy?

_This is why I hate visions._

Meanwhile, in the present, Xanatos is gone but his ship was still here.

"Quick!" He called out to the soldiers, "Disable his ship! And get the hard drive out of there!"

* * *

Obi-Wan was not in the palace—he was with the Queen, now dressed as a regular handmaiden and mingling among the soldiers stationed at the top of the walls. It was his little rascal who told the captain to order his men to shoot at the "man with the red lightsaber." Maybe it was because Naboo was use to young authority figures—Qui-Gon himself had a difficult time imagining why anyone would follow the instructions of a ten-year-old, but in this case, the boy might have saved himself and the Queen, and he praised the child as was his due, which earned him a bright smile of pure happiness, before heading out to find the governor before he got too far.

Hours later yielded no results—the Sith had used the planet's rich life signature to hide himself, which was an impressive feat considering his dark nature. Sensing that the governor was likely lying low for now, he and Authsola came back to the palace. Searching an entire planet under these circumstances was not ideal, and Qui-Gon suspected that even if the Force could direct him to Xanatos, which it usually would have, Xanatos was traveling far enough away that if he followed, he would be stranding Obi-Wan.

"We should inform the Council," Authsola told Qui-Gon. "The governor is himself a Sith Lord. There's always two, which means…" She scowled, "Did you know he was a Sith Lord already?"

"…Ah?" Qui-Gon faced her with an oblivious expression.

"Don't do that," The girl exclaimed, annoyed, "Don't play dumb with me. I've been your padawan for years, I know when you're faking it. Obi-Wan talked about an accomplice, and you didn't seem the least bit surprised that this man turned on a red lightsaber at us."

 _Shoot._ Qui-Gon had to brush up on his acting skills. "I knew he was a Dark Sider." This much was true.

Authsola was still irritated.

"You wouldn't have believed me," Qui-Gon pointed out to her. "Come, you know that as well as I do."

She refused to be appeased. "Why are the Sith after Obi-Wan?"

Something made Qui-Gon reply, "We don't know they are after Obi-Wan."

"But you have a feeling," Authsola said knowingly, "Otherwise, why suddenly bring him here, close to you?"

"Doesn't mean it had to do with the Sith."

"Fat nerfs it doesn't, Master!"

Any more of this, Qui-Gon knew, and his former padawan would actually feel hurt.

"I don't want the Council to send Obi-Wan out as bait," He whispered from the corner of his mouth, "Which they might do if we knew for sure the Sith were after him, so we don't know for sure." He gave her a meaningful look.

"That's preposterous. You don't know that they would do that!"

"I actually do," Sifo-Dyas had said it blatantly enough that there was no room for doubt.

Authsola scowled, still not convinced, but her irritation had solidified, which meant her feelings would not be hurt.

The city security was in an uproar, the Queen speedily returned to the palace with Obi-Wan in tow, and the Master and Knight pair was soon broken up as they were questioned after each were given a bathrobe to wrap around themselves. The Naboo officials had no idea they were dealing with a Dark Force user. How long had that rogue been on planet? Where did he go?

It was hours before Qui-Gon was able to collect Obi-Wan, who was so tired that his face was bleached white.

"It's bedtime," Qui-Gon announced, guiding the youngster to one of the spare rooms in the palace that was set aside for them. The Queen had already retired, but Obi-Wan had been anxious without his master. "I want you to go to sleep. I still have some work to do, but I will come in the morning, alright?"

"Aw," Obi-Wan pouted, "I want you to stay with me."

"You're a big boy, Padawan," Qui-Gon helped the child change into more comfortable sleepwear, "Get some rest, alright?"

Obi-Wan was out like a light as soon as his head hit the pillow, his breathing so deep he sounded almost like he was snoring.

Outside, Authsola was still with the guards, though they had finished questioning her.

"Looks like a sleepless night, Master," She said to him. "Do you think he will return?"

"I doubt it," Said Qui-Gon, "But it does not hurt to be vigilant tonight. We should contact the Council first, however, tell them what is going on, and I think Mace would want to hear this as well."

* * *

 _"Troubling, this is,"_ Yoda said rather redundantly.

 _"You are certain of this,"_ Shaak Ti inquired.

 _Nooooo I am not certain of this,_ Qui-Gon thought sarcastically, _I'm totally making this up because I enjoy it._ "This man is no untrained rogue, nor even a turned Jedi. He used a dark technique during our duel, some kind of Force lightning." Next to him, Authsola remained quiet, as she was wont to do when she felt Qui-Gon was in charge.

 _"Hm."_ Yoda's ears drooped as he mused. _"Good thing, it was, to send Master Billaba with Master Windu. However, escaped, the governor has."_

 _"For some reason,"_ Ki-Adi murmured, _"I sense that young Kenobi is at the heart of all this."_

 _Oh no you don't,_ Qui-Gon scowled mentally, though he kept his features smooth. "Maybe in terms of visions," He said, so he would not sound too defensive, "The child did seem to sense something was amiss with the governor from the beginning, from what Kit has told me." He did not think it was necessary to mention the scene Obi-Wan caused at the hangar when Qui-Gon first departed for Telos.

 _"Perhaps,"_ Said Ki-Adi, though Qui-Gon knew the Jedi was very suspicious now.

 _"Send us the contacts Telos has had,"_ Adi Gallia told Qui-Gon, _"I know you hacked into their servers—I'm wise to you now. It's why you're standing on Naboo, of all places. Give us a list of the other planets that associated with Telos. We'll send teams out to these planets in case the governor decides to escape there."_

"There's a lot," Said Qui-Gon, "I also have his ship's hard drive, we might be able to pull the last hyperspace coordinates from it, but so far the technicians have not finished. As for the rest, I'd use an algorithm to optimize the locations but my R2 unit is…well, dying." Mace might have gotten it fixed again, but he doubted he would want to use the droid for anything at the moment. "It's also not with me, but with Mace. You'll have to tell him to forward the list, and maybe have the temple computers filter the list."

 _"Do that, we will,_ " Said Yoda, _"Meanwhile, stay in one place, you should not. When finish investigating hard drive, the technicians are, look in to the sites, you should."_

"I will," Qui-Gon nodded, "Though for now, I have reason to be concerned for the Queen's safety. Until I am assured of it, I do not feel comfortable leaving Naboo."

"I can stay here and guard her," Authsola volunteered, "Obi-Wan might enjoy spending a little more time on Naboo."

"I can leave you here," Said Qui-Gon, "But Obi-Wan is going to have to come with me."

"Why?" The girl was obviously confounded by this. "Wouldn't it make more sense to keep him here? It's probably safer here. You wouldn't want the child confronting a Sith lord!"

No, he would not, but he would much rather be present in such a situation than not. "I may need his visions," He provided, since the alternative would be to admit that the Sith were after his padawan and that was the last thing he wanted to say in front of the Council.

 _"Do what you must,"_ Yoda spoke before anyone else could say anything, _"But careful, we must be."_ Adi had already left the room to contact Mace for the list. _"Tell no one of Governor Du Crion, you must_ , _"_

Fair enough, since Telos IV would hardly appreciate hearing their own governor slandered in such a manner, and frankly it was easier to be subtle when people were not in a panic or otherwise agitated. "Understood, Master."

The vision fell over his eyes then, Xanatos, staring up from beyond the palace walls, hidden from the guards. It was brief and to the point.

"Have to go, see you all, bye," Qui-Gon cut the connection before grabbing Authsola. "He's outside."

_What do you know? Vigilance indeed._

* * *

The rain had not eased, which meant there was now mild flooding going on all over the place except the elevated parts that could drain the water away. Qui-Gon and Authsola were still wrapped in bath robes, and they tossed them into the mud in order to gain more flexibility.

Xanatos, however, must have sensed them coming, because he was nowhere to be found in the shadows of the storm, and Qui-Gon could not sense his presence.

"What's going on?" Authsola asked, shivering in the rain and sneezing. "Master?"

"I'm sorry," He apologized. "He was here, earlier." The footprints were still in the mud, though the tracks led nowhere Qui-Gon could follow.

"He's definitely here for Obi-Wan," Authsola covered her mouth, "This is absurd! We have to tell the Council!"

"So they could do what, exactly?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Well, protect him, of course! Why would the Sith be interested in Obi-Wan anyway? Do they know something we don't?"

That was an interesting question. Qui-Gon himself had never given it much thought, being more concerned with the fact that the Dark Side had been after the child in the first place and less concerned with the reasons behind it, but now that Authsola mentioned it, perhaps it did warrant some investigation.

"The Council wouldn't protect Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said lowly, "Since when have they ever hidden one of us to protect us? We either overcome the danger or we perish. Think about it."

Authsola was silent for a moment. "You are frightening me, Master," She said quietly, low enough that her words were barely audible over the splatter of the rain. "Since when did you become so cynical?"

He rarely touched Authsola out of affection, but this time he allowed himself to cup the back of her head for a moment.

"For some reason," He told her, "Obi-Wan is more important than the Sith. I don't know why, I just know this to be true. You have to work with me here."

"Of course," Authsola blinked, "I just think the Council would do a better job, if we tell them—"

"The Council's part of the problem."

"I don't understand."

"They have rules they must follow," He told her, "You know your history. What happened the last time the Council decided to let people suffer and die for the sake of something they sensed in the Force? They're not going to make that mistake again."

"Well at least tell Master Yoda!"

"Hm!" Qui-Gon glanced into the distance, where he suspected Xanatos remained out of reach, "I would not be surprised if that green troll already knows. The fact that he isn't saying anything makes it all the more suspicious, don't you think so?"

* * *

Authsola came down with illness by dawn, sporting a fever so dangerously high she was delirious. Qui-Gon abandoned seeking Xanatos in order to look after her; his healing skills were not among his best, but any little bit helps, and the Force was not urging him to find the governor. Obi-Wan lingered close, small face worried as he contemplated the young woman's sick countenance, and dutifully soaked cold compresses to press over her burning forehead.

"Exhaustion, new planet, and the rainstorm," Qui-Gon squeezed her hand, "I do not treat you as well as you deserve, Padawan."

Obi-Wan regarded this gesture solemnly, and Qui-Gon reached out to ruffle his head.

"Don't worry," the child said, "We'll take good care of her."

Qui-Gon smiled. Something swelled in him, and he leaned forward to press a tender kiss on the top of the child's head, while holding on to Authsola's hand.

The Naboo computer slicers contacted him about the hard drive stolen from Xanatos' ship.

"We found some past hyperspace coordinates," They presented the locations on the holomap, and Qui-Gon noted that Naboo was not actually one of them. There was actually one area of the galaxy that showed up more frequently, and it appeared to be a small, isolated moon. Looking at it made Qui-Gon's heart tighten, which usually meant that there were strong Dark Side energies on the celestial body, which made sense if that was where the Sith lords convened.

"Are we going to go there?" Obi-Wan asked, looking small and young and totally not ready to go to a planet like that.

If anyone was going there, it was Mace and Depa, but no Council would lightly send Jedi to a place tinged with the Dark Side without some covert investigation first, and that was admittedly not one of Mace's strong suits, or Depa's. There were other masters who were better suited for the task. They were not as good with negotiations, but they were very good at sneaking around undetected and could probably handle a small moon, no matter how much Dark Side energies it had. It would have to be done carefully, because the Sith have not shown up for a thousand years, and there was no telling what sort of tricks they would pull, things that might not even be in the archives.

Either way, Qui-Gon was not going, and neither was Obi-Wan. "No, this is a task better suited for someone else," He told his padawan, "My talents don't encompass this sort of thing."

The youngster inexplicably relaxed at this, which made Qui-Gon feel a bit sad. It would not always be this way; later on Obi-Wan will have to face dangers that he might not walk away from. It was the life he had been thrown into—one of sacrifice, even for those who might be less worthy…but then was it not the same for everyone? In times of need, everyone had to do their part, and set aside their hopes and dreams to deal with the present conflict. With any luck, the Light Side favored the child enough that it will protect him for all of his time in this galaxy. And, of course, there is no death, there is the Force. Once Obi-Wan truly understood that, he might not be as afraid.

He glanced at Authsola and mused that there were actually other ways Jedi could die. It was not always in the heat of battle. Sometimes they died in bed, sick and feverish and failing.

Mace commed him.

 _"The governor has returned,_ _"_ The dark-skinned Jedi reported, rubbing his bald head, _"I think he stole a ship."_

Of course he did. It was something Jedi would do as well, if they really had to. Qui-Gon did not disable the ship to ground Xanatos so much as get the harddrive coordinates.

"I think you should wrap up," Qui-Gon told him.

_"Why?"_

"Because we need to approach from another angle. There's a moon that he kept traveling to, I suspect that this is important, but the moon looks suspicious. I'm going to tell the Council to send in a Jedi Shadow to investigate."

 _"Good call,_ _"_ Mace nodded, _"Depa and I will finish here in that case. We'll let them believe that we're done here. Are you going back to Coruscant anytime soon?"_

If Xanatos had gone back to Telos, then the Queen of Naboo might not be in danger. He still had issues with the senator, however, and from accounts, Palpatine was due to arrive soon. Qui-Gon wanted a word with him.

"I'm waiting for the Senator," Qui-Gon told him, "He's returning either tomorrow or the day after. Also, Authsola has taken ill, and I want her recovered before subjecting her to the hyperspace flight. You'll be seeing me soon, I expect."

 _"Be careful, Qui,"_ Mace warned, _"This business with the Sith, I'm still not sure I can wrap my head around the idea, but whatever it is, and whatever the governor is, this whole situation is probably more complicated than it even looks now. Watch yourself."_

"I will," Qui-Gon nodded. One should never underestimate the Sith, after all. "May the Force be with you, Mace."

_"And with you. Mace out."_

He glanced at his two padawans, Authsola still sleeping and Obi-Wan checking the compress.

"I can't wait to go back home," Obi-Wan said mournfully.

"I know, Padawan," Qui-Gon rubbed the little one's head. "I know."


	19. Palpatine

The Senator of Naboo was a benign-looking middle-aged man with a pleasant smile and gentle demeanor. Qui-Gon's gut instinct was to look past all this because true politicians could look like a variety of things, but that does not mean they actually were those things. The difficulty was that Naboo had a twelve-year-old Queen who was a normal child by all accounts, which meant that he had no idea what kind of senator the planet might elect into office. At least they were sensible enough to vote for an adult, he supposed. A twelve-year-old would not survive the circus that was the Senate.

On the other hand, there was Andwé, and if the child was afraid of the senator, that was reason to be cautious in of itself.

"This is very troubling!" The senator said with all the composure of a proper politician who was also internally alarmed by the issue. "A Dark Side user, on planet! Was anyone hurt?"

"No," Qui-Gon reported, since Authsola was not actually hurt by the Sith, "And he has apparently left the system, so all is safe for now."

"Why would he have come here? There is nothing on Naboo that could possibly attract him."

A fair question, if the senator were not the suspect, but Qui-Gon easily misdirected, "There is no way to tell for sure, sir."

"Ah," The man's eyes gleamed a little, "Pardon me, Master Jinn, but out of curiosity, what are _you_ doing here? All members of the Jedi Order are of course welcome on Naboo, but I sense this is not a mere social call."

 _Sense?_ Something in Qui-Gon tingled, before he instantly crushed it. _You imbecile._ Sense was a perfectly normal word. Just because Palpatine may not be a Force-sensitive did not mean that he could not still "sense" in the traditional _sense_ of the word. Maybe Qui-Gon needed a vacation. "I was here because I was investigating a case on Telos IV and found out that the government there had been associating with yours, so I was hoping you might have some insight. As it turns out, however, my fellow Jedi had just reported resolving the case. I remained because I heard you were returning and wanted to ease any fears you may have about the Dark Side user's presence on this planet."

"Ah, you are very generous, Master Jedi." The senator smiled jovially. "I'll admit, it does help that you are here. A Dark Jedi, on Naboo! It must have been a coincidence—a good thing nothing came out of it."

Qui-Gon plastered a smile on his face. This man had charisma; Qui-Gon could feel himself being drawn to the senator's affability. A younger, more naïve Jedi might give in and trust this man, but Qui-Gon had too much experience, seen too much of other people's experience, to believe in this amiable nature, and once more his gut churned with unease. Just how should he gauge this man? He could not get a read on him.

"I heard you recently made a trip to the temple," Said the Jedi Master.

"Oh, it was quite good, quite good."

"Was there anything we could do for you? My colleagues were worried that you left without resolving what you went there for."

"Ah, I was just…curious. It was nothing, no need to trouble yourselves. Do send my apologies if I had worried them."

Pressing any more would raise suspicion in a smart man, so Qui-Gon let the matter drop just in case Palpatine was not a fool. He decided he could act affable too, as long as he gained information. "Of course. I notice that Naboo has a tendency to elect very young Queens—can you enlighten me on this?" He grinned to show his authentic curiosity.

"Ah," Palpatine nodded, "A quirk of our culture, I would say. Children are pure sentients, untainted by evil. We cannot have corrupt leaders, or else the entire society collapses."

"But how do you protect against naïveté?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Well, naturally the rulers cannot be just any child," Palpatine replied, "There is an intense selection process to measure a child's moral strength as well as their intelligence. Afterwards, they are taken to Theed where they are trained, in this case, as a princess and a future candidate to be Queen." He smiled at the Jedi. "It is a system that has worked well for us."

"Hm," Qui-Gon nodded. "Still, though, and forgive me for being presumptuous, but I do find it confounding. Children tend to be so inexperienced, even the wisest of them can miss what older individuals intuitively know. It is amazing. Naboo must produce formidable prodigies."

"We scout the entire planet for the best of the best," Palpatine nodded, "Such a feat is not as impossible as it seems. In any case, while children might lack in experience, their intuition is by no means limited. Young Padawan Kenobi, I am told, has a very strong intuition, does he not?"

"…" Qui-Gon kept his face neutral. "I would say so. How did you know of him?"

The question appeared to catch the senator off-guard. "Ah, I heard of him when I was at the temple."

 _Lie._ Qui-Gon did not actually sense it in the Force, and after this he intended to meditate on it, but he knew that the senator was lying because Kit and Shaak Ti would have told Qui-Gon if there had been interest in his padawan or any mention of it—they knew his neurosis by now. Certainly, they would have mentioned if they had discussed Obi-Wan enough to mention his keen intuition and Unifying Force talents. "Really? What occasion? Did you meet him?"

"Ah…no. It was brought up. I can't quite say how, it has been a while and I admit I was preoccupied with other matters."

"Oh. What else do you know of him?"

"That he is your padawan," The senator smiled and Qui-Gon felt he could detect a bit of unease in the expression, "He was not at the temple when I visited. I assume he is here on Naboo? I would like to meet the young man."

 _Yes._ This was actually what Qui-Gon wanted too. The senator was not likely to do any harm to his little one, and certainly the Force did not warn of an immediate danger, but he could learn something from the interaction. If anything could prove whether there was something wrong with the senator, it would be the Kenobimeter, although at this point Qui-Gon only wanted confirmation; good people can lie just like bad people, but the senator was not really earning himself points, friendly mannerisms notwithstanding. "Of course, Senator. Currently he is with my former padawan, as she had taken ill."

"Oh my," The senator frowned, "I trust my people are ensuring the best care for her."

"Yes, Senator—Naboo does not lack for hospitality." Qui-Gon nodded.

* * *

Qui-Gon sensed Obi-Wan's unease through the bond. The child was normally quite bold around adults, but he withdrew and only answered Palpatine's questions with one word responses, or even non-word responses.

"How are you liking Naboo, my young friend?" The senator asked with all the kindness one would expect from a gentleman, but Obi-Wan just shrugged and tried to hide behind Qui-Gon.

That was really all the evidence Qui-Gon needed.

"I think he is just worried about Authsola," Qui-Gon said to the senator, "He is normally more…gregarious than this." There was no point in hiding it, considering that the senator would likely hear it from his aids who got to know Obi-Wan before Palpatine returned from Coruscant.

"Ah, that is very understandable," Palpatine nodded, though Qui-Gon was not sure what there was to understand—his excuse had not made any sense whatsoever and he had not intended for it to.

 _How to protect the Queen?_ She could not ward against what she did not know, and in the mind of a twelve-year-old, what reason could there be for her own senator to work against her? He considered his own child. He could not leave the Queen unattended, but what else was there to do?

He had until Authsola got better, at least, to figure out how to warn the Queen without upending the entire government of Naboo. He could come straight forth and tell her, but that would not go over well—despite the Senator's explanations, he was not confident that she would react wisely, and any wrong action on her part could result in tragedy.

"How popular is the senator?" He asked Andwé.

"He is very popular here."

"Here as in Naboo, or here as in Naboo's government?"

"Well, popularity has a different meaning here. He gets things done."

"Like what?"

"Oh, lots of things. He…" Andwé trailed off suddenly. "Actually…I'm not sure, to be honest. He always gave the impression that he accomplished a lot of things but everything is really ongoing. It's been that way ever since he was in office."

That honestly sounded like the perfect candidate for a Sith Lord to manipulate: an incompetent politician with some say in the Senate, who happened to work with the Jedi. Palpatine was charismatic enough to mask his ineptitude, which meant he could be charismatic enough for other things as well. It still did not give Qui-Gon much to work with, however.

"What would stay his hand?" He asked. "What would prevent him from acting on the Queen?" The man was unmarried, which was strange for a politician, but it meant he had no familial ties to exploit. The Queen, on the other hand, did have a family.

"As long as Her Majesty is useful to him," Andwé replied honestly, "In addition, the planet does favor her. She has made no mistakes, and removing her would cause a sort of turmoil he would not be able to contain. All he'd accomplish is that someone else would be elected Queen, and there really aren't any prepared candidates right now."

Qui-Gon rubbed his face, trying to get over the idea that these children from Naboo all spoke so…professionally.

"It can't just be that," The Jedi Master noted, "He has outside ties. His tie with a governor," He did not elaborate which, "There has to be some outside force. You are right that ousting the Queen now would accomplish nothing. This means he _is_ trying to accomplish something. Has there been any record of older Kings on Naboo?"

"Yes," Andwé nodded, small face concerned, "But the reason we changed our custom was to avoid the corruption that came with it. There is no way Senator Palpatine could possibly take the throne. He is ineligible, and the people will not condone it."

"That means he is targeting the Senate," Qui-Gon mused, "It's the only other possibility."

This mess would be easier to clear up if it were one of the core planets. Qui-Gon was not too familiar with Naboo or the relations it had with everyone else. It was something he might have to get more help for.

He needed to ensure the Queen's safety, however, and that of her family.

Obi-Wan's giggle transmitted down the hall, and Qui-Gon was struck by how bright it sounded, and must sound, to people who had never met the boy. He was truly unusual, this boy—no other Jedi initiate was even close to being as bright and full of cheer as he was.

At another round of giggling, interspersed with raucous shrieks, both Andwé and Qui-Gon were baffled enough that they broke off from the conversation to see what was going on. It turned out, the Queen was chasing the boy, apparently trying to tickle him, and Obi-Wan was demonstrating his Jedi athleticism, moving just out of reach at the last possible minute but never running too far for her to actually catch, if she had been quick enough. The Queen was not wearing her regalia, but contained her mirth far more than her companion, even though her normally serious face was sporting a grin wide enough to split it.

"She really likes him," Andwé observed, "It's been hard for her to make friends as Queen."

If the Senator were interested enough in Obi-Wan that he would go to Coruscant as soon as Qui-Gon left him, then the Queen's friendship with the padawan might be sufficient. It was harmless for Obi-Wan, as far as Qui-Gon was concerned, as long as he monitored the two, and a good way to protect another child not much older than his own. In the meantime, they could see exactly who Palpatine was being influenced by, and how.

"I think I have a way," He told Andwé. "Don't worry."

* * *

"We will miss the little one dearly," Palpatine smiled fondly at Obi-Wan, "We are very sorry to see you go, Padawan. If time permits, do have him visit again. I am sure the Queen will appreciate that."

Obi-Wan had not exactly _warmed_ up to the senator, but the prospect of leaving right after this seemed to brighten the child's spirits that he was willing to put up with the man's attentions. "Thank you, Senator!" He remarked, "Naboo is a lovely planet, like Alderaan, except different, and with less nerfs."

The senator uttered a chuckle that sounded faintly disgusted, while Obi-Wan chose to ignore him entirely to focus on the Queen.

"Thank you, Senator," Said Qui-Gon, "You have tolerated our presence well, despite our appearance without invitation."

"All Jedi are friends of Naboo," Palpatine smiled. "Those two have become fast friends, yes?"

"Yes," Said Qui-Gon, "I have encouraged my padawan to maintain connections with the Queen, if only on friendly terms. It would do him good to know planets out here."

"Yes," Said Palpatine, "And the Queen, too, would do well to have friends in Coruscant."

There was a way to tell when people were scheming, Qui-Gon realized. It was not always easy to tell _what_ they were scheming, but it was easy to tell that they were if one knew what to look for. Right now, the senator was musing over this development and considering his options, while completely missing the fact that the Jedi Master noticed. For his part, Qui-Gon could see his own plot being inserted into all the right places. With such a solid confirmation of their relationship, the senator would not be so hasty to remove the Queen if it meant cutting off a tie to his padawan. Meanwhile, through the Queen, Qui-Gon could actually monitor the senator right back, and best of all, Obi-Wan was secure and safe despite being the conduit. Three things accomplished all at once.

"Thank you very much, Senator," Authsola was still a little pale and feeble, but she had recovered well under the care of the healers in Theed. "We have imposed on you greatly."

"Not at all," The Senator inclined his head, "I foresee great things from you, Knight. We are fortunate to host such guests."

Authsola thanked him again, while Qui-Gon called Obi-Wan. It was time to leave. They bid their hosts farewell. The Queen looked a little longingly at Obi-Wan but was unable to do much because of her heavy wig and garments. She stood very stiffly in order to keep everything from falling off and Qui-Gon felt very sorry for her. Andwé stood close to her, waving goodbye to the Jedi.

"They have twelve-year-olds as Queens," Authsola complained when they were out of earshot in the ship, "And then hire twelve-year-olds as decoys. Decoys, Master! These poor girls are expected to die for each other. That is barbaric. Why, when we were twelve years old, we were just chosen as padawans and we are not even allowed to go on missions that are potentially dangerous, while these folks are sending prepubescent younglings to die for each other. What a messed up culture."

"Maybe they grow up faster," Said Obi-Wan, "And it's not like the Jedi are _that_ much better. Just because we risk our lives when we're older doesn't mean it's _good._ "

Qui-Gon looked at his little one, stunned.

"And besides," Said the child, "She wanted to rule, and her handmaidens were volunteers. They get to do great things, even if they might die. That's no different than Jedi. There is no death, there is the Force. What _I_ don't like is that Senator. He's so slimy and his smile is so _wrong._ I hope he goes away soon because I'd like to visit Naboo again, but I don't want to while he's around. Naboo is like Alderaan, except with less nerfs. And less people, in general. They don't really have a lot of people here. Maybe the Jedi Temple should come here instead, no one else comes here and the planet's like a giant Thousand Fountains! They even have natural ones, the waterfalls, and they just fall and there aren't any bridges or anything. I think we should move here. But we should only do that when that Senator goes away."


	20. Currents of Time

"Apparently someone overclocked the R2 unit," Mace told Qui-Gon after the debriefing, and his glare made it pretty clear whom he thought was the culprit.

"I did nothing of the sort," Qui-Gon exclaimed in indignation, "Why would I overclock a _droid?_ Those things are temperamental. Besides, overclocking is not my style. If anything, I _underclock_ to extend my power."

Mace only scowled. "Well, in any case, parts of it were damaged because of the heat, so the engineers are going to give it a whole workup. I suppose it is only due to the Force that this thing did not die on us earlier. Good thing I chose to pilot my way home instead of handing it the controls. The sky traffic was _abominable_ , though. Is it just me, or is there sky traffic every time we _don't_ have an R unit to pilot for us, but then no traffic when we _do?_ "

Qui-Gon shrugged. He was already thinking ahead to Authsola and Obi-Wan. The young woman had gone to the Healing wing and the boy had gone with her. He was eager to join them.

"We sent a team of Jedi Shadows," Mace continued, "To look into the matter of Xanatos Du Crion. Hopefully they unearth the Sith Master soon, before the two of them hatch some nefarious plot to take over the galaxy. As of now, this is no longer your case."

"Great," Qui-Gon was all too glad to hear that.

"You have no more missions at the moment," Mace continued with exasperation, "So make the most of it."

"I always do," Qui-Gon waved at him before heading to his quarters.

* * *

The next weeks that followed were fairly uneventful in terms of missions. Qui-Gon taught lightsaber classes while Obi-Wan attended his own. Authsola was sent on her own mission after she recovered fully, while Feemor and his padawan returned to planet for some well-deserved rest. The only thing that really happened was that after nearly a year of struggle, the rogue twi'lek, Servathi, finally lost her hold on life and passed away into the Force, and Yoda decided to allow Obi-Wan to be ring-bearer for Bail Organa, something that had both Bail and Obi-Wan as excited as teenage girls.

 _"You'd think that picking a child to take a ring down the aisle would be pretty straightforward,"_ The lad told Qui-Gon with an expression that indicated just how much he had suffered over everything wedding-related, despite the fact that the bride's family technically had more responsibilities, _"But the Antilles finds everything we do offensive and vice-versa. Now at least, with a Jedi padawan bringing the ring, both sides can leave me alone…at least for that part. I still have to try on several hundred different wedding regalia. I'll talk to you later. If I'm still alive."_

Obi-Wan snickered at this and transmitted a holophoto of himself wearing the Naboo Queen's wig as a "suggestion" to Bail, which led Qui-Gon to wonder if the little rascal had taken the holophoto specifically for this purpose.

Meanwhile, Tahl and Kit were both fighting over Bant Eerin.

"It really is not fair," Kit complained to Qui-Gon, "That youngling and I are a better match and everyone knows it, but she pulls that Master card every time, and the fact that they are both female—what does that have to do with anything? It is not like humans and Mon Calamari have the same issues. Your human females have that disgusting thing every month—"

"I'm _not_ listening to this," Qui-Gon declared, running away.

* * *

The wedding on Alderaan occurred with much more tension than Qui-Gon had anticipated, probably due to all the stress of planning things that the Jedi had not witnessed. The princess, Breha, wore a wedding gown of lavender encrusted with jewels while Bail Organa looked smart in his robes of the same shade, but both center characters of the ceremony looked like they were in danger of being outright sick.

Obi-Wan, in a rare display of complete oblivious ignorance, chirped around the attendees asking why the lavender color, which was just as well because he was really the only character who could dispel the frankly dismal atmosphere.

"It is a clean color," Prince Antilles explained, "And yet it is not empty, like white. Purple is the color of royalty, and they are to inherit the rule of Alderaan. It is to represent a new era, one that is…pure, unmarred by previous conflicts." His face twisted slightly at this.

"I like it," Said Obi-Wan, "Good thing Princess Breha didn't have to wear a wig, like Naboo. I don't think she would have made it down the aisle."

This sparked some good humor as everyone laughed for once—apparently Bail had forwarded the holophoto to everyone.

"No, I don't think Breha would have appreciated that," The Prince chuckled.

The ceremony took five hours, which tried even Qui-Gon's patience. Obi-Wan enjoyed himself far more than his master did, but towards the end the little one's stamina gave out. He gulped down the food during the reception that followed at a speed that resembled a nerf, while the bride and groom both stared kind of despondently at their own plates, neither really willing to eat.

Arranged marriages were clearly quite awkward.

The newlyweds stayed for the duration of the reception which took a corresponding eight hours due to the many performances and dances in celebration of the event. At this point they looked sick for a different reason, but they both made an effort to brighten a little in order to personally thank the Jedi for coming.

"You two had a long day!" Obi-Wan exclaimed when he saw their faces, "You should go to bed!"

Qui-Gon covered his face in order to hide his mirth at the dumbfounded looks on both Bail and Breha. Obi-Wan had no idea the night was actually longer for the two, even if going to bed was _precisely_ what they were about to do. It was slightly discomfiting to bid them farewell after that, but Bail clasped Obi-Wan's hand and Breha bent down so the child could give her a kiss on the cheek, and then the Jedi were released so _they_ could go to bed. To rest.

"The families were _so_ awful," Obi-Wan remarked once they were in their rooms, "They should have gotten rid of the relatives and just had the wedding with the couple and their friends. I thought Bail was going to faint." He then plopped down on Qui-Gon's bed and fell asleep instantly.

* * *

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were eventually sent on a few missions of little note. The Jedi Master heard few updates about the Telosian governor, other than that he disappeared and stole the bulk of Telos IV's wealth, leaving its government destitute. It was really no longer his business, though, and he did not want to get involved because that could mean getting Obi-Wan involved, and the little one was enough of a target as it was.

Garen Muln was eventually chosen by a Jedi Master named Clee Rhara, an event that pleased Obi-Wan greatly but also made him a little jealous.

"She's going to teach him to fly!" The boy whined, "Why can't I fly? Just an easy ship. I won't crash it!"

"Really?" Qui-Gon asked Clee, "You're letting that boy touch the controls?"

"After I fly him where he wouldn't crash. I'm not _stupid_ , Qui-Gon," The redhead remarked indignantly.

"You realize that once you give him a taste of such freedom, he is going to be a terror," Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows. Unlike Qui-Gon and Tahl, Clee Rhara became a master without training any students. "I, for one, am not letting Obi-Wan near a hyperspace switch until he is fifteen."

"You exaggerate," She insisted.

"He's your padawan," Qui-Gon relented. "When accidents happen, it's on your head."

Meanwhile, though Obi-Wan did not exactly throw tantrums, he did bring up the subject a lot, looking so plaintive that it was _almost_ enough for Qui-Gon to give in.

"It's not that I don't trust you, Obi-Wan," He told the child, and there was truth in that statement—Obi-Wan was careful for a boy his age, and in all ways he was a stellar student and a responsible youngling, "It's that I don't trust the other numbskulls in this galaxy not to crash into _you_."

"How is that going to change when I'm older?" The brat pointed out, "It's not like there aren't drunk pilots and dumb people once I turn fifteen."

"You will have five extra years of life experience, for one," Qui-Gon told him, "I don't expect you to understand this now, my young padawan, but accept that there are certain things you can't possibly know, that you simply need time for. Trust your master. You know I always do what is best for you—I wouldn't forbid this without a good reason."

Obi-Wan pouted under this manipulation. "But how come Master Rhara is letting Garen fly?" He asked, not quite willing to let this go yet, "It's not like she's _not_ looking out for his best interests."

It was a fair question that should be addressed carefully.

"Every Master-padawan pair is different," He told Obi-Wan, "You might have noticed that I only require you to walk two steps behind me to the left when we are in public. Other masters require this of their padawans all the time—in the halls of this temple, heading to their quarters," He had actually been given some grief about this from other masters, but he had ignored it because it just felt so unnatural in his relationship with his child, "I don't claim that Master Rhara does not care about Garen, but her style and her expectations of him are different from mine for you. She spent most of her career in Starfighter Corps. She wants Garen to love flying as much as she does. I already know you love flying. I don't need to introduce you to it."

Obi-Wan tilted his head at this, but accepted his explanation, even if he was a bit disappointed. Feeling a little bad, because Qui-Gon understood how frustrating it was to be denied something without really understanding the reasons, he opted to cook their meals that day so Obi-Wan had time to play with Garen.

* * *

Obi-Wan's birthday approached, but with it came an entirely new development.

"There's this name that keeps repeating itself in my head," He told his master.

"What name?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Ilum."

Ilum was an ice planet in the Unknown Regions, known only among Jedi because it had crystal caves containing the rare and valuable Adegan crystals, which were used to build lightsabers. The name was carefully kept from the younglings because not all of them were destined to be Jedi, and Qui-Gon had never mentioned the planet to his padawan, partially because the boy was so young.

"Do you know why?" He asked, a little dismayed that his little one was already about to make his first lightsaber. It felt like no time had passed at all between now and when the child was just turning ten and handing out his new sweets to everyone in the halls.

"No," Obi-Wan scratched the back of his head, "But I feel like…I'm supposed to go to wherever this 'Ilum' is."

"It's in the Unknown Regions."

"Oh."

Realizing that his own dismay was distressing the boy, Qui-Gon gave himself a mental shake. "It's not bad, Obi-Wan. I can take you to Ilum."

"You know what it is?"

Qui-Gon nodded. "We need to get some thick cloaks and boots."

* * *

"It's supposed to be a _good_ thing, you crazy old man," Tahl exclaimed as she delighted in obtaining Bant Eerin, "Now Obi-Wan is really on his way to becoming true Jedi. He can defend himself."

"It feels like yesterday when he was blowing bubbles in the healing wing," Qui-Gon moped.

"Stay in the present, Qui."

"I _know._ I just didn't think the present would come so quickly."

Tahl rolled her eyes.

"Come on, he's building his first lightsaber! It's a milestone! You can't expect the child to remain so forever, he has to grow, and this is healthy, perhaps even precocious. He has not even turned eleven yet, and he'll likely be spending his birthday in the most sacred part of the galaxy."

"In a cold, frozen planet with no food or heating," Qui-Gon wrinkled his nose, "I should probably ask the kitchens to make something, actually."

Tahl tugged on his beard. "You'll miss him, we know," She grinned, "You're absolutely adorable. You two really _are_ a good match. I'm going to collect my little one, this is going to be fantastic!"

"This is unfair, I tell you," Kit complained to Qui-Gon later, "I call discrimination!"

"There's that other one, Reeft."

"I know." Kit's large black eyes blinked rapidly in annoyance.

"You were complaining about males and females," Qui-Gon then said in a much lower voice, "You do realize that your pheromone-detecting tentacles make it awkward for even male students to be around you as they go through puberty and begin rutting, let alone females. Never mind that Eerin and Tahl won't share too many similarities, but as soon as that girl is of age and starts her heat cycle— Kit, you are a new knight. You might be old enough to be Eerin's father, but only just. She's ten years old and you're twenty-four. You're more like her brother than anything."

Kit sputtered. "It's not like I'm going to—that's disgusting, Qui!"

"I'm not saying you will. I'm saying it will be discomfiting, and while you might have the control of a proper Jedi Knight, Bant Eerin would be a _padawan_ at that time. She'll still be _learning_ , which means there will be things she has yet to master."

"She's not going to—"

"I'm not saying she will. I'm saying it will be discomfiting. A girl needs her mother during that time, but she does not have one. Whatever Tahl's differences, she has more to offer in that respect than you."

"Well you trained Authsola! You two were both the same species, even!"

"And you have no idea how careful I was," Qui-Gon said seriously. "By that time I had known what happened with my own master's first padawan, and I had trained Feemor and watched other masters with their own padawans as I went through my own growth. You have no idea the kinds of precautions we have to take when we accept a child from the opposite gender. I was nowhere as close to Authsola as I am to Obi-Wan. You see me messing up Obi's hair, picking him up, sometimes even whacking him on the behind when he was naughty—I _never_ did that with Authsola, no matter how aggravating she might have been. I was always careful to _never_ touch her, not even casually. When she got sick, if there was anything that required some level of intimacy, I always called for Tahl. When she reached puberty, I was even more careful, because that is when they are confused and they can get us confused and everyone just gets confused about who they are, who they want to become, and it is _so_ important not to make a misstep because the consequences can be irreversible. The true trouble is, Kit, we're not actually their parents, but however poor the substitution, we are the only ones these poor children could turn to in order to fulfill that role. There are single fathers outside the order who take care of their daughters, and single mothers who take care of their sons, but these people watched these children from when they were infants and have that parental instinct towards their offspring. We do not, and correspondingly these padawans we take do not have a matching instinct towards us. We have to be very wise."

Kit blinked in surprise. "Do you regret anything?" He asked, "That you were not as close to Authsola as you are to Obi-Wan? Or Feemor, for that matter?"

"Feemor and I had a similar issue, in that we were close in age. I was simply not old enough to look out for him the way I am looking out for Obi-Wan, and he never expected that of me. He knew I was there for him, he knows I am still there for him, and that is the best I can offer. I can do no more than that. As for Authsola, it was never my intention to form a close relationship with her. As with Feemor, I will always be her ally, but I do not want her to feel too close to me. Such a relationship would be bad for her. Perhaps she would have benefited more if another master had chosen her, but in terms of talents I was the best instructor. All I can say is, I do not think she felt deprived. I am fairly certain she knows I care for her, but there are just boundaries neither of us can cross, and that is the way life works. For certain people, there are boundaries you cannot cross, and as you get older you gradually learn them and this can help shape what you do and how you react and ultimately prevent suffering. Having the correct boundaries should not interfere with your affection; sometimes you place them _because_ of your affection, and Authsola knows enough about Vosa and Dooku and what I have seen over the years to understand that what I did was in her best interests. You have not been a knight for very long, Kit. Your abilities make you unique, even among Jedi. You have a different perception of the galaxy than the rest of us. You need a little more time to understand how _other_ people react, because the reactions of other people shape the relationship as much as your own."

The Nautolan was introspective for a while.

"What did you do with Authsola?" He asked. "What about when she had to do those missions like the one Master Billaba just came back from?"

Qui-Gon groaned. "You know those fits I am apparently famous for? Guess how many of them were about that. It could be hard, sometimes. If it hadn't been for Tahl, I don't know how successful I would have been. You can ask Mace, too, how he worked with Depa. Whenever you have a padawan of the opposite gender, you usually need another master around to help on occasion. There were things I encouraged her not to confide in me, to find someone else instead, so long as I know the gist of it. Female problems, the like, sometimes they are real issues that I should know, but I was very cautious about it. If Authsola gets too comfortable, so many problems could start. They might not, but they could, and I did not want to take any chances. You might notice, actually, not all masters are as strict about this—it could be that I was too neurotic, but much of this also had to do with the Force. If the Force willed, many mistakes can be overlooked. I think many are, even as we speak. However, that doesn't mean you should drop all caution."

"So things like that monthly thing…? She wasn't allowed to come to you about that?"

"I did not encourage it," Qui-Gon said honestly, "And it wasn't because I found it abhorrent or anything like that. Tahl occasionally mentions it, it's a natural part of being a female human and it causes genuine problems, but it is a gateway. There are a lot of gateways, you know. Feel comfortable enough to talk about those, feel comfortable enough to talk about things that are more serious than those, and then more and more and more—what's the limit? Best fence off the beginning of the runway. She usually went to Tahl, or the healers, and I hear about it second-hand. That age when males and females get confused about each other, I sent Authsola to Tahl."

"But doesn't that close a lot of doors to other things?"

"Yes and no. There's a reason I chose Tahl. Whatever she couldn't tell me, she could tell her. Sometimes I do wonder if there were issues that we could have addressed but never did because she felt too insecure to speak out, but overall," He shook his head, "You watch and you see signs. Everything has signs. There is the Force to guide you if something really is amiss. Authsola should have had a mother," He shook his head, "But she's a Jedi. We work with what we have and we prevent what calamities might result."

"What about Obi-Wan?" Kit asked, "Aren't you afraid he might grow too close to you, too attached?"

"Obi-Wan is different," Qui-Gon said dismissively, "He needs someone to be attached to. For some reason he draws a lot of attention."

"That's true!" Kit exclaimed, "That twi'lek knew his name! Creepy, if you ask me. The governor of Telos—he was a Sith Lord! And there's no risk of him being confused about you, since you look like a homeless person."

"Mace told you to say that, didn't he," Qui-Gon scowled, "I'll have you know that I am actually a very handsome human."

"Well you can't tell with all that hair on your face. At least Mace is smooth. I don't understand you humans, especially the paler lot of you, you have this ineffectual layer of fur that doesn't actually do anything to keep you warm, and then you males have hair on your faces so that anything you eat has to first go through that barrier of—"

Qui-Gon whacked him. "My beard looks distinguished and at least I don't have head tentacles that I can accidentally chop off with my lightsaber!"

"At least my 'head tentacles' have a useful purpose!" Kit struck back with a grin.

"Well you look strange."

" _You're_ strange!"

"Bah!"

* * *

"I'm nervous, Master," Obi-Wan said as they boarded the ship that would take them to Metellos.

"Why?"

"…I'm not sure," Obi-Wan scratched his head, "I guess I'm just…I don't know."

Qui-Gon turned the engines on and checked the controls and parameters. "I will be right there with you, Obi-Wan."

"I know. It's just…" Obi-Wan sighed, "I'm afraid I'm not actually ready to make a lightsaber…or use one. I mean, I've never used a lightsaber in real combat…obviously, so…like…"

"You've been training hard," Qui-Gon looked at him, "I'm not worried."

"What if we're going to Ilum for something else?" Obi-Wan asked, and in a burst of articulation, "Would you be disappointed in me if I didn't make a lightsaber this time?"

"Of course not," Qui-Gon ruffled his hair, "You _will_ make a lightsaber. It doesn't really matter when, so long as you do. And there is no reason at all for you to believe that you can't. You're a perfectly normal Jedi youngling, you are a good student, and Obi-Wan, sometimes bad things aren't actually bad. Let me tell you a story I heard once when I was a knight," He entered the coordinates, "There was a farmer once, who had a steed. One day, the steed ran away. He was a poor farmer, and steeds cost a lot of credits, so all the neighbors took pity on him and remarked on what bad luck he had. These people, of course, were not Force-sensitive, and neither was the farmer, but he was a wise man, and said that this was not bad luck at all. Sometime later, the steed returned—it was a female, and it went out to breed and came back with its offspring. So now the farmer had two steeds, one mature and one young, so the neighbors all congratulated him on his good fortune. The farmer, however, shook his head and said that this was an ill turn of events, which made everyone surprised, but later on, while his son was breaking in the steed, it reared up, threw his son off and broke his leg, crippling him for life. The neighbors were aghast, and came to give their sympathies, but the farmer laughed and exclaimed, no, this was a great fortune!"

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. "He was _happy_ that his son got crippled?"

"The neighbors thought the same thing, but years later, the planet went to war, and the King ordered a draft. All able-bodied men were sent to the armies, leaving behind their parents, their wives, their children. The farmer's son, however, was not fit to be in the army, and was allowed to stay at home to take care of his family. The war was brutal, and many of the fine youths who went never came home again, while their families starved in poverty and destitution. The farmer's son naturally escaped this fate, and it was all because he was crippled. We know of the Force, these people did not, but even they knew that some bad turns can lead to good things, and the same goes for good turns. It is all the will of the Force, my padawan." He reached out to stroke the boy's cheek. "Don't worry so much, alright?"

Reassured, the boy nodded.

"Now get yourself strapped in. We have about five minutes to get through the atmosphere." Qui-Gon picked up the comm as he ruffled the boy's hair again. Obi-Wan was growing a bit taller. _He's about to make his first lightsaber._

How time flies.


	21. Turns of Fate

It was a quick trip from Coruscant to Metellos as it was in the same sector. They did not linger in orbit for very long, and Obi-Wan only received a brief glimpse of the rather shabby planet before they launched into the hyperspace jump that would take them to Ilum. The youngster was quiet for the entire trip, and Qui-Gon could sense his anxiety and unease. He tried to determine if it was related to any genuine threat, but it seemed more due to nerves than anything else.

It was good for Obi-Wan to be quiet. The child needed to meditate on his lightsaber crystal, after all, and being in-tune with the Force now would make that easier.

When they did arrive on Ilum, his little one seemed almost dismayed. The Force was strong here, but unlike on Alderaan or Naboo, there was little life here and it felt seemed lonely and depressing.

"That's Ilum?"

"That's Ilum."

They pulled into the atmosphere of the bleak planet and landed at the bottom of the slopes, since landing on the top was impossible. Obi-Wan headed to where the heavy cloaks and boots were kept and put everything on. When they were ready, Qui-Gon opened the hatch, and the blast of cold air hit them like a physical blow.

Much of the surface was covered in ice, with bits of snow from the wind that scraped off crystals that scraped the face of the ground. Obi-Wan took a step and fell on his behind. The Jedi Master was more experienced and kept his balance while helping the little one up.

"Stay close," He told the youngster, "The slopes are very slippery."

Compared to Qui-Gon's visit here when he was a padawan, or when Feemor and Authsola were making their first lightsabers, their scaling up to the caves was a smooth one. When Qui-Gon was here, there had been a nest of Gorgodons close by, and he and his master had to influence a bunch of them while slaying several others. Obi-Wan's Force sensitivity might have had something to do with the lack of trouble this time around; the child sometimes loitered for seemingly no reason, or suddenly doubled back, forcing Qui-Gon to catch up to him. For the first time he could remember, Qui-Gon followed the boy without questioning him. They camped out once, the child huddled close to him and sharing his cloak, and then they were in the cave.

It had been years since Qui-Gon was here, and every time he was dazzled by the sheer beauty and serenity of the cave. The caverns were large and high and deep, the evidence of millions of years of carving and morphing and sculpting etched into their walls and floors and ceilings, and in the air the Force was ambient with the memories of many Jedi who had come here for the crystals, a tradition that was kept alive for tens of thousands of years. The crystals were not actually as obvious as one would expect, but when he lit the plasma torch he could see their glimmer in the dim light. Obi-Wan uttered a quiet gasp as he took in the sight.

"We should make the temple _here_ ," He said.

"There aren't any nerfs here."

"We'll bring some nerfs here."

"What will they eat?"

"I don't know. Maybe we'll leave the nerfs where they are. It's too cold, anyway." The boy then went further in.

Qui-Gon smiled to himself and wondered if Obi-Wan would ever grow out of liking nerfs.

The caves were cold, but there was no wind. Obi-Wan did not go too far ahead of him, and Qui-Gon kept close at hand. The boy went deeper, ignoring the crystals around them, though he did not seem entirely sure where he was going. At one point, the child stopped and turned to his master in alarm.

"I don't know if I can make it back out," The youngling exclaimed.

"Follow the Force," Qui-Gon reminded him.

Obi-Wan worried his lip, looking back the way they came, and it was almost as if he were looking back at his past, his memories, reluctant to leave them.

Or maybe Qui-Gon was just being sentimental.

The child then proceeded onwards again, and the master followed. Silence descended after that.

* * *

"That one."

Qui-Gon looked at where the boy was pointing. A little bit of blue sparkled from the ceiling about twenty feet above them.

"You're trying to give me a workout, aren't you?" He looked down at the little brat.

Obi-Wan blinked, looking worried, so Qui-Gon ruffled his hair to show that he was not serious. "If you are certain, Obi."

The boy nodded.

Qui-Gon turned on his weapon, noting that his own blade was blue. It gave him some pleasure to know that the boy's blade color would be like his own. He gathered the Force and leaped up, slicing the ceiling in quick, efficient cuts. The block of earth fell with him and dissolved easily on impact. The crystal itself rolled across the ice, pretty much already polished.

Obi-Wan wrapped himself more warmly in the cloak before sitting down in front of the crystal and hovering it into the air with telekinesis. Qui-Gon sat near him to keep him warm as the little one sank into meditation as easily as if he were born to do it. The Force jingled around them and seemed to be roused by the child's meditative trance, reminding Qui-Gon of how his first meditation with the boy had been an experience full of joy and laughter and delight. All of the sudden, the cave around them seemed to sparkle a bit more, as if all the crystals were somehow wakened and were glimmering in anticipation.

He was going to have to tell Obi-Wan this at some point. Perhaps not today, perhaps not even this year, but someday. He was fairly certain that Obi-Wan had no idea this was how the Force reacted to him. After looking around, noting how the dark cave had somehow lightened a bit, Qui-Gon closed his eyes and sank into his own trance to wait for the little one to finish.

* * *

_He was in the archives, but not the ones in the Jedi Temple. The designs were similar, the feeling of the place was similar, but there was an ancient feeling of abandonment, like the place was built for the Jedi, but they had not been there for thousands of years. It reminded Qui-Gon of…the Dantooine Enclave, actually. He wondered if this was the library there._

_A tall male Jedi with dark blonde hair was looking through the shelves, running his fingers over the ancient tomes and cursing under his breath in the most unseemly fashion. Clearly, whoever this young man was had not been trained properly, because his mannerisms were filled with so much frustration, and he made no effort to release his emotions into the Force._

_"Cursing at the books won't make the answer jump out at you," Said a voice from behind Qui-Gon. The accent was awfully familiar, even if the voice was not. It belonged to a man, and as he turned around, he saw a figure swathed in two cloaks, so bundled that Qui-Gon could not see him._

_"Well if I were to choose between cursing and making myself feel better while not finding the info, or not cursing and keep feeling like trash while not finding the info, I'd pick the former," The youth turned around, "Unless you want quiet."_

_"It doesn't really matter. I can feel your frustration."_

_The youth looked sullen. "I'm sorry, Master."_

_"We should go home," His master ignored him to say, "The Council is waiting. They're probably wondering why we took this detour in the first place."_

_"I told them I was coming here," Said the youth, turning back to the shelves, "For crying out loud, why are there_ books _in this place? How old is this Force-damned library?"_

_"Anakin," The master said quietly, "I want to go home."_

_Anakin hurried over to him, and Qui-Gon frowned as he sensed the wave of love and affection and despair rush past. The youth bent over the bundled figure and smoothed the cloaks down. Qui-Gon caught sight of familiar blue-grey eyes set on a face that was pale and emaciated, before Anakin's shoulder blocked his view._

_"Hang in there, please, Master," Anakin clutched Obi-Wan's face in his, "Just a little longer. Artoo is downloading what files are electronic, and I just want a chance. Please."_

_"Anakin," Obi-Wan sighed, and Qui-Gon was alarmed by how absolutely weak and tired he was, his Force signature like dying embers, so far from the laughing sparkle of joy as a child, "Some things are the will of the Force. Sometimes there are no answers to problems. You have to accept that."_

_Anakin burst into tears, emitting a low sob, and Qui-Gon raised his own hands to cover his mouth. The youth looked so lost, so much like a child, and so desperate._

_What was wrong with Obi-Wan? Why did he look so sick?_

_"We have to try," Anakin insisted through his tears, "I have to try. I'm sorry, I know you are suffering, but I can't just—I—I'm supposed to be the Chosen One, I have all these stupid midichlorians I can't_ do _anything," He uttered another sob, "_ _And_ _I can't stand the thought that later on I might learn that I could have done something if only I tried harder, Obi-Wan…"_

_"It is 'Darsant Avat', Anakin," Obi-Wan raised a thin, frail hand to touch the boy's cheek, "Plague of Forces. Trying won't accomplish anything. You are just one man. Masters should always leave before their padawans. This is right. You can't face the other side with a lightsaber, Anakin, no matter how hard you try."_

_Anakin pressed his master's hand against his cheek as Obi-Wan's eyes fell closed._

_"I don't think I can go on missions anymore," Obi-Wan murmured. "Please, padawan, take me home."_

_"I will. I promise. After this, I'll take you home. Just…give me some more time, please, I promise I'll take you home. At least until Artoo finishes downloading everything."_

_The master exhaled and the vision faded.  
_

* * *

Qui-Gon opened his eyes. Obi-Wan was still meditating, the young one's aura soothingly strong and bright. He moved closer, shaken by the vision. Was that Obi-Wan's destiny? To die sick and frail, before his time? He had looked old in the vision, but there was something about him that also seemed young. He could not have been past forty years old.

In the real world, the child was healthy and strong, his presence serene and calming and solid. Around them the cold caves were quiet, like the many crystals were silently watching the two of them.

 _Darsant Avat._ This was the first time Qui-Gon received a vision that mentioned the term directly.

"Something like that," A woman's voice broke through the silence like a sword shattering stone, " Happens only once in a while."

Qui-Gon whipped his head around. Servathi stood, blue skin almost grey and a sneer curling her mouth. She looked real, except she could not be. She was very much dead.

This had to be a vision of some sort, but how?

"You think only the Light Side influences this place?" The twi'lek went on as if reading his mind, "Foolish Jedi." Her eyes slid across to stop on Obi-Wans oblivious form.

Visions had their own kind of power. Qui-Gon's hand reached for his lightsaber, even though he had no real intention of using it. He doubted it would do much good here.

"What do you want?" He asked. _What am I meant to see?_ It was curious that he was the one facing these visions rather than Obi-Wan, but then he wondered if the boy had his own visions to contend with.

Servathi tilted her head, mad eyes gleaming in the dim light of the plasma torch. "He really is beautiful," She murmured, "Rare, when both sides find the same thing beautiful. It's what starts it all, you know. Two sides wanting the same thing."

"Why Obi-Wan?" He demanded. "Why does the Dark Side want Obi-Wan?"

She was suddenly in his face, except she was suddenly as tall as he was, and she was no longer Servathi but…Anakin, the frustrated, uninhibited Jedi Qui-Gon had seen in his vision. One eye was blue, one eye was gleaming yellow, and his entire face was actually split in half, with one side young and benign while the other side snarled viciously and seemed decayed.

"It's because of _me!_ " The specter exclaimed, and two identical voices echoed from the same throat, except one was benevolent and the other sinister. "Who else can handle me?"

Qui-Gon blinked, and Anakin was gone. It was just the two of them, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, the little one still peacefully meditating.

* * *

Even though Obi-Wan took longer to rouse from his meditation, and even more time to build his lightsaber, by the time it was all finished, Qui-Gon could barely muster the enthusiasm to praise his young padawan, or to truly appreciate the fact that Obi-Wan had modeled it after his own.

The child was no longer the oblivious youngster he was when he was nine.

"Did you see something?" The boy asked. "You have that look, Master."

Qui-Gon rubbed his head. "Yes."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not here. Let's head out. I don't want to discuss these matters here."

The trip back to the ship was as smooth as the trip from it. They camped out once in the cold, and by the time they arrived at the ship, Obi-Wan was all too eager to rush inside. Unfortunately, the ship was as cold as the cave, since Qui-Gon had turned the engines off, and the heaters took time to warm up.

"Want to talk about it now?" Obi-Wan asked.

Qui-Gon considered. "Obi-Wan, have you ever had visions of the future? I mean very distant future, as in years."

The boy hesitated and worried his lip, the way he always did when something troubled him.

"Stop that," Qui-Gon remonstrated, reaching out to pull it out. "Padawan?"

"I've…had visions, when I meditate."

"When you made the crystal?"

"Well, that too. The crystal was different though. In the past," Obi-Wan rubbed the back of his head, "I don't think you'll be happy, Master."

"Tell me," Qui-Gon ordered.

"I saw Master Dooku," Obi-Wan looked worried, "He kept telling me to join him. He was old, and…well, kind of like that Sith Lord on Naboo. I kept saying no, and…he…tortured me. I didn't feel the pain, actually, though I was screaming a lot in the vision." The boy looked down. "I'm sorry, Master. I don't know why I keep seeing it."

"Don't be sorry," Qui-Gon felt numb and decided not to demand why the child never told him this before, "He was my master, true, but people change. How often did you see this vision?"

"Well, it was the first," Said Obi-Wan, "It shows up every now and then. Usually when I dream it's about class, about doing problem sets that don't actually exist, but I think those were regular dreams."

"Anything else? Any visions?"

"Not really. Mostly Dooku. Also Bail. Those are nicer," The boy beamed, eager to share some optimism, "He and Breha will really love each other. They won't have kids though, which is kind of sad, but they eventually adopt. They're all awkward now, but they will love each other. They're both really nice people."

"What about yourself?" It was nice to know that young Organa and the Princess were destined to have a happy marriage, but Qui-Gon was not interested in that right now. "Have you ever dreamed about…being sick?"

Obi-Wan tilted his head. "Not really, no."

"Does the name 'Anakin' sound familiar to you?"

"Anakin?" Something in Obi-Wan's eyes seemed to spark and register the name. "Something about it sounds kind of…Ani. Anakin. I feel like you've said it once before."

"I never did," Qui-Gon said with certainty.

"I don't know." Obi-Wan shook his head.

"Don't worry about it," The Jedi Master told him.

* * *

Something was troubling his master.

It actually took a while for Obi-Wan to piece everything together. He had been distracted by other things, mainly studying, lightsaber training, the occasional mission, whether official or unofficial. After almost two years, though, the boy could no longer ignore the fact that his master was always worried about _him_ , which was definitely not the case for other master-padawan pairs. He also knew what Master Qui-Gon did _not_ say; he did not say that other masters did not care about their padawans nearly as much as he did, but then it was not prudent to say out loud. Besides, Jedi Masters were not supposed to care about their padawans as much as Master Qui-Gon did about Obi-Wan. The Jedi Code forbid attachments.

It was a little frustrating to realize that he was the cause of problems without knowing _how._

"Is there something wrong with Master Qui-Gon?" He asked Master Yoda, who was ambling down the hallway toward the meditation gardens.

"Hm?" The Grand Master's ears perked up at this. "Why ask this, do you?"

"Well," Obi-Wan folded in on himself, "I feel like something's going on with him."

"Hm. And going on, what has?"

Master Qui-Gon had grown distant ever since Obi-Wan made his lightsaber. It was not that his teacher was neglectful, just very distracted whenever he was assured there was nothing amiss with Obi-Wan. And he was _always_ asking if there was anything amiss with Obi-Wan, even though nothing was—the healers had checked.

"Ever since we returned from Ilum, Master Qui-Gon has been…worried. I had told him…things," Obi-Wan was not sure if he should tell Master Yoda about Master Dooku, "I guess those could be it too, but I don't think so. I know he saw something in the caves, and he's been dwelling on it ever since. He's always asking me how I'm feeling, if I feel sick, if I've had any visions—I don't get visions _that_ often, and most of them are really stupid too, like if I forgot to brush my teeth before going to bed I'd dream about my teeth falling out but it's really just all in my head, that sort of thing. The healers already told him I was healthy, I don't know what's going on."

"Hm," Said the Grand Master, "Speak to him, I will."

Obi-Wan thanked him before taking his leave. Garen was actually in the training salles, and since he had not made his lightsaber yet, Obi-Wan picked a training lightsaber up to prepare to practice with him.

The other boy was very excited.

"Flying was _fantastic!_ " The boy exclaimed, and Obi-Wan managed to squelch a brief flare of envy. "Master Rhara is the best!" He then went on to describe everything, from the ship's controls to how to maneuver the vessel so that Obi-Wan felt almost certain he could fly one himself if someone put him in one right now. "Flying is so easy! It stinks that Master Jinn won't let you fly until you're fifteen. That's so long!"

"I know!" Obi-Wan agreed, meeting Garen's lightsaber with his own, "I couldn't talk him into it." He scowled. "I don't know what's so hard about it. I see him do it all the time, plus a _droid_ could do it. I'm a _Jedi._ It's got to be easier for me."

"It so is!" Garen turned his blade off, "Obi, you and I should head to the hangar later. I saw Master Rhara enter the combination to unlock the gates. We can take one of the ships and head out!"

"What?" Obi-Wan turned his own off, " _No._ Besides, are you even allowed to do that?"

"Well she never said I couldn't."

"Well Master Qui-Gon said _I_ couldn't," Obi-Wan shook his head, an uneasy feeling gathering in his gut at the mere thought of disobeying, "So no."

"Oh come _on._ You're not _scared_ , are you?"

"Of course not! This is just a bad idea."

"I thought you wanted to fly!"

"I do," He thought about Master Qui-Gon's earnest face and patience even in the throes of Obi-Wan's whining, "But Master Qui-Gon is serious, and he'll definitely find out."

"Why?"

It took almost two years, but this was long enough for Obi-Wan to discover that not everyone had the same kind of bond he and his own master had. "He just will. And I don't want to disappoint him."

"Well, I'm calling Reeft and _Bant_ then," Garen said unhappily, "I guess we'll go without you."

Feeling a bit crushed, Obi-Wan did not say anything.

* * *

After the afternoon classes, Obi-Wan came back to the quarters feeling depressed about the whole affair. Master Qui-Gon sensed this, as he always did whenever Obi-Wan was upset.

"What's wrong, Padawan?" He called from the kitchen counter where a portable computer sat displaying various files in blue holos, "Bad day today? Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine," Obi-Wan scowled, wondering if one reason his master refused to let him fly was because he thought Obi-Wan was too sick to do it. "I've been fine. Are you worried I'm sick? Is that why you think I can't fly a ship?"

"I thought we were over this," Master Qui-Gon rubbed his face in mild annoyance.

"Sorry, Master," Obi-Wan dipped his head. His master was always worried about Obi-Wan, and while that was irritating sometimes, he knew better than to give his master more grief.

Master Qui-Gon sighed, "No, Obi, I'm the one who's sorry. I know you really want to fly. You think you're old enough, and it doesn't help that Master Rhara is letting your friend fly a ship when he didn't even make his own lightsaber yet.

Obi-Wan groaned. "It really stinks. She's letting him fly on his own too. He's taken Reeft and Bant and I wanted to go too," He paused, wondering why he did not go; just because he went with his friends did not mean he was flying the ship, which meant he was not disobeying his master.

_Darn it! I'm an idiot! I could have gone!_

"What did you just say?" His master asked softly, and something in his voice made Obi-Wan hesitate. Well, maybe he did the right thing in not going.

"But I'm here," He said quickly, "I said no, so obviously I didn't go with them."

"I know. I'm talking about what you said earlier. You said Padawan Muln is flying on his own? With Reeft and Eerin?"

Obi-Wan felt like he was treading in dangerous waters. "…Um…they are…right now…am I in trouble?"

" _You're_ not," His master said flatly.

* * *

"Tattle-tale," Bruck Chun mocked, "You're a tattler."

"I didn't _know_ I was tattling!" Obi-Wan scowled, not that it really mattered either way. For one thing, he was not sure if he would not have told his Master about Garen's stunt even if he knew Garen was not supposed to fly ships, since Obi-Wan made a habit of telling Master Qui-Gon everything—his master tended to know a lot of stuff anyway, so hiding was pointless and lying was just not acceptable. Garen also was not talking to him regardless, though, which served to make the young padawan feel even more miserable.

"Sure you didn't," Bruck sneered, "You went to your master like the baby that you are and got your own friends in trouble. Some friend you are."

Technically, Obi-Wan did not get his friends in trouble. It was Master Rhara's fault, Master Qui-Gon had said; she did not take the precaution of warning her padawan not to fly the ships by himself, so technically Garen had not disobeyed her. He was just warned not to do it again, after a whole team of Jedi Knights were dispatched to retrieve the padawans. Garen was more upset about the spectacle than anything else, and truthfully, so was Obi-Wan.

Despite the fact that Bruck was lying, everyone in the temple _did_ think that he was a tattle-tale.

"Tattle-tale! Tattle-tale! Oafy-Wan is a Tattle-tale!"

"Leave him alone!" A girl exclaimed, "He didn't do anything wrong, so quit it!"

Obi-Wan looked up. Siri Tachi had her arms folded in a pose resembling one of their teachers.

"Who do you think _you_ are?" Bruck demanded.

"Thanks, Siri," Obi-Wan sighed, "He's sort of a lost cause though."

"Come again?" Bruck whirled on to him.

Obi-Wan scowled. Under Master Qui-Gon's tutelage, he had far surpassed Bruck Chun in almost everything. He did not want to start a fight over something so stupid. "Hey Siri, want to head over to Dexter's later with me?" Feemor's padawan, who had seen this whole thing and felt sorry for Obi-Wan, had offered to escort him to Dexter's that day for a bit of comfort food. Obi-Wan was certain he would not mind Siri joining them though.

"I don't know," Siri wavered, "Am I allowed to?"

Unlike Obi-Wan, she was still an initiate, which meant she was more restricted. Technically Obi-Wan should have had more freedoms as a padawan, but his master was kind of overprotective, otherwise Obi-Wan would have gone to Dexter's on his own. Having an eleven-year-old traverse Coruscant was a little much though, and Obi-Wan was well aware of that, even if he thought not even touching a ship's controls was a little over the top.

He loved Master Qui-Gon though, and would never do anything to hurt him.

"We can ask," He told Siri. "It's just Dexter's, and we have an older padawan with us. Feemor might join us too."

Siri hesitated. "Alright. What's Dexter's?"

"He's the best cook in the galaxy! You'll see," Obi-Wan beamed, and ducked away with Siri before Bruck could come up with a way to harass him again. The white-haired boy was truly getting kind of pointless. Obi-Wan had no idea what his problem was. It was hard to avoid fights when the other boy seemed so determined to start them, though thankfully by now he just seemed so desperate it was obvious from the start that he was the one responsible. Obi-Wan had been getting better at ignoring him too.

"Dexter's is a cook?"

"Dexter is a be-be-besalisk, _ugh_ ," Obi-Wan scowled, "Why do I keep doing that? I _know_ how to say the word."

Siri giggled. "I do that sometimes too! Though I usually just forget how to spell things. Who else is coming?"

"Just us." Obi-Wan lowered his voice, "Don't tell Reeft. I'd invite him too, but Feemor doesn't let me spend my allowance when I'm with him and his padawan, and Reeft would eat _everything_ there. I don't want Feemor to go broke." He made a face. "I guess if Feemor isn't coming, I can sneak in my allowance too, as long as he doesn't know."

"What about Bant and Garen?"

"Well they have their own masters," Said Obi-Wan, feeling a little sullen. Bant was still talking to him, at least, but he knew Garen would take issue with him right now. "This stinks. I don't even know what I did, exactly. Not like I could have avoided any of this, I guess. At least they didn't crash into anyone, like everyone thinks they would."

"They could have _died_ ," Siri said a little snootily, "I'd take this over that any day. Don't worry, Obi. People are stupid. Besides, people are just jealous."

"What's there to be jealous about?"

Siri shoved him lightly. "Oh come on. Master Qui-Gon Jinn. Top of the class—"

"I'm _not_ top of the class—"

"All the politician's favorite Jedi youngling—"

"I'm n—huh?" Honestly the only politician he really talked to was Bail, who was not even really a politician yet. "Is it because of that wedding? It was _so long!_ I think this is why we cut off our families, because families are _so annoying!_ "

Siri giggled. "Well at least you've _been_ _to_ a wedding. I've never been."

"Well you will," Obi-Wan said with confidence, "Once you're chosen, you'll get an allowance and you can go to Dexter's and see weddings. The food's really good, even if the dancing was kind of boring. I also didn't get to ride any nerfs on Alderaan this time around." He made a face. "Ah well."

"Nerfs? I heard they smell!"

"So?"

Siri grimaced. "You're such a _boy_."

"You're such a _girl_ ," Obi-Wan returned good-naturedly, and the two laughed.


	22. Bruck Chun

Sometimes, Obi-Wan felt like he went through years without being _aware_ of it all. Things would happen around him, the galaxy would change, and he just went with the flow for the most part. There would be some instances, though, when he would stop and wonder how in the galaxy he got to where he was. It felt he was pulled along by some entity, and he just followed, but he had no idea where he was going.

The years passed with little of note. Master Qui-Gon spent much of his time researching something, and on occasion Obi-Wan would catch something about ' _Darsant Avat'._ He looked it up himself, but the descriptions were confusing, something about how different sides of the Force would fight each other, and it really did not seem to have anything to do with…well, anything.

In the meantime, Reeft was accepted by a master, as was Siri, and as they all approached their thirteenth birthdays, they watched as one by one their fellow younglings being shipped away to the various Corps. The main talk, however, was Bruck Chun.

"They say he'll be sent to Agri-Corps," Said Bant, "It's going to be strange without him."

"We all saw this coming." Garen had forgiven Obi-Wan a long time ago, and was preoccupied with all the missions he and his master kept getting sent on. "No one would take someone like _Chun_ as a padawan. Where else would he go? Look at Aalto." Aalto, incidentally, had already been sent to the engineering corps about a year ago.

"We did," Bant agreed, "But still, it will be odd, not having him in these halls."

"Is it strange that I feel kind of bad for him?" Obi-Wan asked, "I mean, back when Master Qui-Gon took me as his apprentice…I don't know if Bruck and I were much different then. I actually _still_ don't know why he chose me so early."

"Tell me about it," Garen teased, "What on earth could a Jedi Master like that have seen in _you?_ Oafy-Wan."

Obi-Wan made a face at him. "Still, sometimes I wonder if it hadn't been me buried under there, but Bruck. Then he'd be the one Master Qui-Gon chose."

"No!" Bant exclaimed, "You can't think that! He was a complete bully from the start. Master Jinn would never have liked him."

Obi-Wan shrugged.

Later that day, Master Qui-Gon told Obi-Wan a bit of news that had the boy feeling anxious.

"I'm being sent to Bandomeer to investigate the mining efforts," The Jedi said, "There seems to be some criminal activity and fraud. I'm going to leave you here to attend classes while I go."

"Why?" Obi-Wan asked. He had a real lightsaber if things got dangerous and this sounded simple enough. "Can't I come with you?"

"I have a feeling it will be very dangerous, Padawan," Qui-Gon reached out and patted him on the back of the head, "Don't worry about it. Just attend class, be a good student, and I will try to return as quickly as possible."

* * *

"Why do you think there's going to be an issue?" Shaak Ti asked, "The initiate, Bruck Chun, is being sent on the same transport as you."

"It's probably not a wise decision," Qui-Gon insisted.

"Well we already made plans," Said the Togrutian master, "It's just a transport, Qui-Gon. It's no less dangerous to send him on another transport—the Corps is on Bandomeer, it's not like we can send him anywhere else."

"You shouldn't send him with a transport filled with Arconans and Offworlders. For crying out loud, he's been here as a child, the least we can do is send him with a special escort of our own. This is ridiculous. It's not like we lack for our own ships. These children are heartbroken." Never mind that Bruck Chun had bullied his own padawan, the boy was still a youngling, and the adults should be responsible for him. "Designate a special transport for him. He's not the only one who hasn't been chosen."

"They're all going to different places, Qui-Gon. He's the only one going to Agri-Corps. It makes no sense to do a whole trip—"

"How in the galaxy does it not make sense? Our own ship, our own flying schedule, our own defenses, rather than toss him with a bunch of people we don't know. Can you guarantee that the passengers on the vessel he's scheduled on wouldn't try to harm a Jedi child who's left all by himself?"

"Well that's where you come in, isn't it?"

"This is ridiculous," Qui-Gon scowled.

"You're letting your own feelings for your own padawan cloud your judgment," Shaak Ti said gently, and Qui-Gon realized that the Order did not really care for its initiates the way he cared about Obi-Wan. It figured, really.

"These parents give their children to us," He said, struggling to release his fury at the injustice of it all, "In the hopes that their children would grow up to do good in the galaxy. We raise these younglings so that it's the only lifestyle they know, and when they don't fit our particular code or the tastes of particular potential masters, we toss them aside without any regard for their future. What if that vessel gets attacked by pirates? You realize that it's a larger target?"

"You're being sent on the same vessel, Qui-Gon."

"That's not the point," He folded his arms, "but in any case, I will not take Obi-Wan with me. This mission feels," He shook his head, "Perhaps it's more for Chun's sake than for my padawan. Those two don't get along. Chun hardly needs a reminder of how Obi-Wan succeeded where he had failed. I will have you know, however, I find all of this distasteful. I guess it's too late for Bruck Chun, but if we have any more temple rejects my two credits is that we should treat them less like trash and more like children who are losing the only family they've known."

"The Jedi Order was never a family, Qui-Gon," Shaak Ti said quietly, "And neither are you Kenobi's father. It would do you good to remember that."

"I never pretended I was," Qui-Gon said in exasperation, "And you're missing the point." However, even he was not audacious enough to change the view of the entire order. "I'll see you when I get back, Shaak Ti."

* * *

"Sometimes I think Master Qui-Gon doesn't really believe in me," Obi-Wan confessed to a very thirsty Kit, who was downing water from a ten-gallon bottle directly. He would have gone to Tahl or Authsola, but both women were off on their own missions, as were Feemor and his padawan. "Anytime he sees anything, I don't see anything, so I don't know what he knows, but it's like if he thinks there's going to be a lightsaber battle involved, he doesn't want me there."

"Ah!" Kit set the bottle down with the Force, wiping his mouth. "Your master's pretty protective, this is true. Far more than the others. You know how he was when he first got you? He wouldn't even let you stay at the apartment by yourself. Remember how he kept sending you to the créche, or to Feemor or Tahl or Authsola?"

"You're trying to distract me," Obi-Wan sighed, "I don't get it, I mean, I've been his padawan for three years and I'm now the age most initiates are getting _worried_. I've had a real lightsaber for two years and he always says I'm progressing really well, but then he turns around and leaves me behind. If he keeps doing this, everyone else will seriously start having more experience than me when it comes to the field."

"Have you talked to him about your feelings, Obi?"

"I don't know how to say," Obi-Wan sighed again.

"You could tell him like you just told me."

"I suppose. I guess part of it is that I don't really want to know the answer. I mean, what if he _is_ , what can I do? I'm trying my best already," He felt the padawan braid, "And I guess I should be thankful, I mean, I hate the medcenter, and I hate the healing wing. I also have a lot of non-Jedi friends."

Kit snorted at this.

"Well at least Bail," Obi-Wan conceded, since he was not sure he could call everyone he knew a _friend_. "But part of a Jedi Knight's job is to defend, and right now I'm getting defended more than doing the defending."

"You're still a child," The Nautolan hoisted the ten-gallons with the help of the Force with the intention of bringing it to his rooms. "You became a padawan really early, and you've been a padawan for a while. It's true that other padawans are charging into blasterfire by the time they spent three years with their masters, but they also tend to be about three years older than you. Look at you. You're still short, and your voice still sounds like a human female."

"…"

"I've seen enough of my human friends to know," Kit went on, "When you reach that growth spurt, all that Force sensitivity is not going to help you deal with how you no longer know where your body begins and ends. And then your voice goes through that awkward period where it does not really sound like a voice at all. You also start growing hair on your faces. The males, at least."

"…So you think I'm alright?"

"Of course you're alright."

* * *

Qui-Gon started off on the trip in something of a bad mood; no matter how much he released his emotions into the force, they just welled back up again. He checked on Chun, who responded to his attempts at conversation with awkward, one-worded replies. Sensing the boy was uncomfortable with the master of his rival, Qui-Gon abandoned the endeavor and retreated to a corner of the ship to meditate.

It was peaceful for the first two hours or so, but then civilities broke down between the Arconans and the Offworlders, leading to a heated spat that escalated into a full out brawl. Qui-Gon roused from his trance to investigate and found Chun trying to get involved; this did not help matters.

"…taking orders from a Jedi brat!" one of the Offworlders raged just as Qui-Gon walked in. Before the Jedi Master could do anything, he seized Chun by the front of his robes. "You come along, all high and mighty with your 'Force' talk. You think you're better than us, eh?"

Qui-Gon scowled. "He's just a child. Please put the boy down."

The Offworlder turned to look at him. "And there's the full-sized version."

Then Chun slammed his foot in the man's face. "Get your hands off me!"

The Offworlder dropped him then, but his friend came forward and struck the boy in the face. Chun went down like a rag doll.

"Stop!" Qui-Gon exclaimed. "What are you doing? Are you resorting to hitting children now?"

"He's not a real child is he?" the other sneered. "He's Jedi scum."

" _You're_ scum," Chun spat back, apparently not done yet.

"Hold your tongue and get over here," Qui-Gon snapped, concerned that the boy was still within their range, and he would not be able to reach him without provoking the others.

"They are bullies is what they are," an Arconan hissed. "That's all they're good for—"

"You shut your trap!"

Qui-Gon resorted to using the Force to pull Chun toward him. The boy slid across the floor, but beat at Qui-Gon's shin, clamoring to his feet.

"I don't need help!" he cried out, "and what do you care anyway!"

"What are you trying to do?" Qui-Gon hissed back, and pulled back as the two factions started getting physical again. "Why didn't you come to  _me?_ "

"I can take care of a stupid  _argument!_ "

"You can get yourself  _killed!_ " Qui-Gon lifted his head to regard the chaotic scene. He raised his arms to the sides and clapped,  _hard_. The resounding smack blasted at everyone's eardrums, and all commotion ceased.

"We're on a contained ship," Qui-Gon pointed out. "If you want to settle your differences by beating each other to a bloody pulp, that is up to you, but you do it once we land and  _not before._ Am I clear?!"

They all stared at him.

"We don't take no orders from some filthy Jedi!" one Offworlder scowled.

Qui-Gon charged forward and loomed over the alien. "You _will_ stay away from the Arconans until the ship lands." He whirled around at the Arconans as well. "That goes for you as well: you will stay clear of _them_  or so help me, I will put any violators in a box for the remainder of the trip. Am. I. Understood."

Silence.

Chun gaped at him as Qui-Gon marched back to the former initiate. He reached down and grabbed the boy up by the arm so they could make a speedy getaway; he did not want the boy hurt if the two sides decided on having another scuffle. The boy scrambled, but gained his footing and managed to keep pace with Qui-Gon's grip.

Qui-Gon was completely prepared to make good on his promise. He was not called a maverick for nothing. Fortunately the other occupants made no move to resume hostilities once they left, and the Force, though discordant, remained calm and tempered for now.

When they reached the corner where Qui-Gon had been meditating, Chun jerked out of his hold and withdrew to the wall. "Let go of me!" he exclaimed, rubbing his arm, though Qui-Gon had not been gripping very hard at that point. He hunched over, glaring at the floor, and his signature radiated rage and sadness. He looked like he wanted to cry.

Qui-Gon would have reprimanded Obi-Wan if the little brat had pulled such a stunt, and so incompetently too—but seeing Chun so miserable, and knowing what the child was going through, he did not have the heart to chastise him. What was the point? It was not like the boy would become a Jedi, and there was no reason to modify his behavior along lines that were suitable to the Jedi Code.

"You are hurt," he said instead, recalling how the child had been struck. His face was a little red, but there will be swelling later. "Let me look at that."

"I'm  _fine_." Chun turned away. He would have left the area, but Qui-Gon was in the way.

The Jedi Master sighed. "Who are you punishing here?" he asked. "You won't accomplish anything except to give yourself more pain. Come here and let me look at you. They struck you pretty hard."

"I don't want anything from  _you_ ," Chun spat, spittle flying from his mouth. When he looked at Qui-Gon, his eyes were filled with tears. "Leave me alone!"

Qui-Gon stared at him for a long moment.

"Child," he said at last, "you and I have rarely crossed paths, if at all. There is little I can teach you at this hour, and I know you don't want to learn anyway. But I will say this, and I hope you hear it and remember it. You are a very intelligent child. You are skilled, and you are gifted. You have always been. But you are not the only one who is intelligent, skilled, gifted. You will always find someone smarter, better, more talented. That is not their fault, and it is not your fault that you weren't smarter, better, greater. There are trillions of people in the galaxy. You can't possibly be the best of everyone. But you can always be better than you were yesterday, and you don't have to be a Jedi to grow to be someone even the Jedi admire and respect."

"Ha!" Chun let out, and tears fell.

"You laugh because you don't believe that," Qui-Gon pointed out, "and that is because when you were an initiate, you thought yourself above those who weren't selected to join the Order. You thought yourself better, and that, more than anything else, was the reason you were not selected. But the truth is, child, the Jedi are just a part of the galaxy, just like senators, just like viceroys, just like merchants, pilots, farmers. They are all important, and none of us can function without the others. We are good at what we do, but others are good at what they do. And you can be good at what you do, but you will never succeed if you keep believing that you are entitled to be the best, the most important. No one is the most important, Bruck Chun. Not Obi-Wan, not me, not even Master Yoda. I know you feel lonely and disappointed and upset. I want you to know that this can pass. You may even be happier, and glad that you didn't become a Jedi, that you had the opportunity to be something else. But you need to let go of your pride. Pride is everyone's downfall, but few people know what it means. Pride is when you believe you  _should_ be better than those around you. That is never true, Bruck Chun."

Chun was silent.

"Now come here," the master said softly, "let me take a look at you. Please."

* * *

"Are you alright, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan looked up from where he had been staring into space instead of meditating. Master Sifo-Dyas was standing a cautious distance away, but he looked genuinely concerned.

For some reason, Master Qui-Gon did not like Master Sifo-Dyas very much, which made Obi-Wan slightly nervous around the esteemed Jedi. Still, he sensed no threat, and this was the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Other masters were close by, and it was not like a fellow _Jedi…_

Well, maybe he should not think that. Master _Dooku_ had been very creepy, and just thinking about him made Obi-Wan long to scrub the part of his face the elderly Jedi had touched.

"I don't know," He admitted.

"Your master is on a mission?"

He nodded.

"I am sure he will be back soon."

"It's not that."

"May I sit?"

Obi-Wan blinked rapidly and scooted over to allow the master to sit.

"What troubles you, young one?"

Obi-Wan did not reply immediately. "Just that he didn't bring me."

"Master Jinn cares about you very much."

"I know." _Perhaps more than he should._ "I just feel like…he doesn't believe in me." Kit's reassurances were not particularly _good_ , especially since the Nautolan was preoccupied with getting rehydrated. "He doesn't let me help him, or prove myself. I don't know. I'm probably being silly."

"You're being very silly," Master Sifo-Dyas said kindly, and his face was soft. "There are things your master does not wish to burden you with, and so I shall keep my silence, but I will tell you that you are destined for great things."

Obi-Wan looked up. Master Sifo-Dyas was strong in the Unifying Force, like Obi-Wan, supposedly, even though Obi-Wan did not really think he was too strong. It was hard to tell, when half of his visions go to his master instead of him.

"What sort of great things?" He asked astutely. "Great does not mean good."

"Do you feel you are capable of bad things, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan looked away. "I don't know. I think we all are. It's what we're taught."

"True."

Obi-Wan turned to him. "Master Sifo-Dyas, when you were a padawan…were you left behind a lot?"

"In the early years, I was, in fact." The older man clasped his hands together. "Part of it was because I was too young. Another reason was that some of the missions my master was assigned had been too sensitive. Sending a student along would have soured relations, given the impression that the Jedi Order did not take the issue seriously. As I got older, despite being a padawan still, I had the look of an adult, even if I was young, and I could function more as my master's equal in a public setting."

"Kit did make fun of me for being short," Obi-Wan mused.

"You are tall for your age, are you not?"

"Well I doubt Kit keeps track of that, since I'm human and he's a Nautolan."

"Kit Fisto?" There was more humor in the master's voice now. "You refer to him as 'Kit'?"

Obi-Wan blinked, briefly confused, before realizing that normally he should have referred to Kit as 'Knight Fisto'. "I…yes. I refer to him as 'Kit'. He calls me Obi." He shrugged.

"I see."

They sat for a while in silence, with Obi-Wan wondering what the Jedi Master wanted to do, exactly. It was a bit awkward to sit there and say nothing, but he had no idea what to say, and Master Sifo-Dyas did not offer any topics.

"Padawan Kenobi," The elder Jedi said at last, "You _will_ face your share of trials in due time. This is inevitable. Allow your master the indulgence of delaying that for as long as possible. Qui-Gon Jinn is a wise man. He has trained two knights already, before he took you. If he had truly believed you were incapable of carrying the mantle of a knight, it would have been kinder to send you from the order to one of the Corps, where you would not draw attention nor be expected to wade at the front lines of conflict. Every day, he lives with the knowledge that you might one day be expected to die, to suffer, to grieve for the sake of the galaxy. The universe is filled with things no single Jedi can comprehend, but those like your master are more familiar with what horrors may lie in the shadow. You are precious to Master Jinn, but he cannot always protect you. Allow him to do so while he still can."

"He is precious to me too," Obi-Wan managed not to bite his lower lip at the last second.

Master Sifo-Dyas' eyes softened. "And that is the best gift he could ever ask. Patience, young one. You are far too hasty. There is a reason for everything, and your destiny will be revealed in due time."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and sighed again. When he opened them to look up, Master Sifo-Dyas had left.

* * *

The Arconans and the Offworlders continued to get on each other's nerves, and eventually they needed some demonstration in order to behave themselves. Qui-Gon used the Force to confiscate their blasters, leading to another uneasy truce, though the Arconans swore under their breaths.

Chun wept in his corner, trying valiantly to hide this from Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon debated the wisdom of comforting the child and risking forming an attachment only to break it shortly afterwards when the boy was safely delivered to the Agri-Corps. He ultimately chose to leave the boy alone; as much as he wanted to comfort him the way he would Obi-Wan, he was not the right person to do so. He had in mind to go with the boy to make sure that his supervisors would offer the proper emotional support; he would assume that they should, since Bruck Chun was not the first initiate to be assigned there and he would not be the last, but it never hurt to be sure, not to mention the abominable way the temple had dispatched him.

 _I should go to Mace,_ he mused.  _I should harass the Council about this._ Yoda, too. This was not right. Selected or not, these initiates were still part of the Order. They should always be regarded as kin, more kin than those who had never joined the Order in the first place.

The ship suddenly rocked and jolted while Qui-Gon continued to dwell on the matter. There was a sudden silence as the engines died.

_What is going on?_

When he went into the mess, the windows revealed that they had dropped out of hyperspace. It was four hours too early.

_"What is going on?"_

_"You have got to be kidding me…"_

Qui-Gon hurried to the front just as the overhead comm buzzed with static.

_"Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm, we are experiencing communication difficulties, however we anticipate a resolution soon and will resume our travel to our destination."_

Lie. Something was happening.

The pilot was talking frantically into the comm. "Please disengage the tractor beam. We are a commuter ship. Repeat, we are a commuter ship heading to Bandomeer!"

"What's going on?"

The co-pilot turned to him. "Pirates!" he whispered. "Please, Master Jedi, you've got to help us!"

The ship suddenly rocked. Behind him, he could hear cries of panic.

Qui-Gon looked at the screens. The tractor beam belonged to a nondescript ship, but it was strong, and the life-forms on that ship felt malicious. Pirates seemed as good a guess as any.

"Any idea where we are?"

"Not Bandomeer, nor the sector. Not sure where we are, somewhere along the route."

Qui-Gon turned to find Chun right outside the cockpit, looking in anxiously.

"Identity of the vessel?"

"Looks like a Togorian heavy cruiser. Master Jedi, what should we do?"

"Well they've locked on us," said Qui-Gon. "Nothing to do but to let them, for now."

"Togorians." Qui-Gon reviewed what he knew about their culture. Strong dichotomy in lifestyle between the genders, fiercely honorable and proud…what would drive them to be pirates?

"We're going to just sit and let them take us?" Chun exclaimed.

"We can't do anything until they finish reeling us in," Qui-Gon pointed out. He was glad that he did not bring Obi-Wan, though he was dismayed that Chun, already emotionally devastated, had to endure this ordeal. "Child, stay close to me. We need to feel out these Togorians and see what they are made of before we proceed." It was possible that violence was the only solution, but Qui-Gon would like to avoid it.

The tractor beam pulled their shuttle all the way to the heavy cruiser. Qui-Gon and Chun joined the other passengers, where the Offworlders and Arconans were already going at each other's throats, blaming the other side for the pirate attack. Qui-Gon took one look at the situation and decided to let them have at it. Once the Togorians board, he thought, all of this would be moot point.

But when the Togorians entered, one of the Offworlders chose that moment to fire his blaster; how he got it, Qui-Gon had no idea. The shot went wide, glancing off the hull next to where the pirates were streaming in.

"They dare to fire at us!" one of the great felines roared. "Kill them all!"

Qui-Gon grabbed Chun by the elbow and pulled him behind while flicking on his lightsaber.

So much for a peaceful resolution. 

 


	23. Regret and Lost Chances

The Togorians were easy to dispose of, but in the mayhem, despite Qui-Gon's best attempts, he lost track of Chun. The young teen raced into the fray and was soon out of sight. Tracking his Force signature led to the cruiser, but just as Qui-Gon was about to follow, the cruiser disengaged.

The Arconans and the Offworlders finally allowed their dispute to rest, but the pilots did not want to follow the cruiser for the sake of a reckless child. Short of entering an escape pod, which would initiate emergency protocols and cause the entire shuttle to shut down, Qui-Gon had no way to follow him.

Chun was not a likeable child. Qui-Gon could still remember the first days when he tormented Obi-Wan in the Healing Wing, turning Obi-Wan's light into flickers of rage. Since selecting the child as his padawan, Qui-Gon had regarded Bruck Chun as someone to be avoided. He took little interest in the boy beyond that. But seeing the child weep so inconsolably, feeling his grief, made his own heart sick, and now the lad could very well lose his life, all because the Order could not be bothered to arrange a private transport. This was ridiculous, outrageous, absurd.

He had kept his own padawan home for this mission. There was no one to do that for Chun.

Helpless for at least the next two hours, Qui-Gon worked on typing a strongly-worded letter to the Council, editing it so that he did not sound like he had lost his temper while making his displeasure clear. He was willing to take some of the blame: he was a Jedi Master, after all, and should have been able to keep track of an initiate, no matter how unruly, but Chun's disappearance had as much to do with the child's own despair as it did with the relative chaos at the time.

 _If we persist like this,_ he wrote,  _we will be feeding the Dark side new recruits. What makes them ineligible to be padawans is precisely what makes them easy to tempt. Assuming the boy survives, given his behavior, he may well defect from AgriCorps to join some ill-mannered cause. In this case, I was assigned to the same transport, but my priority was not his safety as I had my own mission. If there weren't the matter of fraud, he would have been on this ship alone, with a similar outcome. This could have been avoided if he had a personal escort. We need to take care of our vulnerable members._

They were probably going to resist. Some nonsense about how things were always done this way, and the like. And maybe Qui-Gon was taking this too personally, but Bruck Chun was Obi-Wan's age, and Obi-Wan…the thought of Obi-Wan being abandoned this way, if Qui-Gon had not picked him out, and if no master had noticed his potential…

_Ugh._

They landed on Bandomeer, where Qui-Gon intended to find transport to chase after the heavy cruiser, but securing transport proved impossible, actually. Qui-Gon tried using the Force to scan the entirety of the station, but even stopping by some individuals that  _looked_ likely, even if they did not feel likely, failed to yield any fruit. The law enforcement officers just waved him away; Bandomeer would hardly need Jedi intervention if their enforcers were useful somehow. Qui-Gon swallowed back frustration and wondered just how he was supposed to rescue the boy.

Maybe he was not meant to after all.

While trying to figure out what to do, he received an incoming comm from Mace, Ki-Adi, and Adi Gallia.

The corresponding conversation was not a happy one.

 _"There is new intelligence,"_ Mace informed him.  _"As much as we would like to question the reliability, the evidence is unfortunately undeniable. Something violent is about to erupt on Bandomeer. We are not certain who is the instigator or the nature of this activity, but you have to work fast, my friend, or else many lives may be lost."_

"The boy," Qui-Gon felt a chill go through him. "He's still lost to the pirates."

_"That will have to wait, and the Force will do what it wills."_

Qui-Gon ended the transmission. Of all times, to get an update like that. He could not risk this nefarious plan coming to fruition in order to rescue the boy. Not personally, anyway.

 _If I brought Obi-Wan…_ Qui-Gon thought, musing that they could have split up and have one of them track down Chun while the other…but Obi-Wan might actually make things even worse, and the Jedi Master quickly dismissed the idea. Keeping track of two adolescents instead of just one. Even though Obi-Wan was usually obedient, the boy did have a mind of his own sometimes.

_At least he is safe in the temple._

Though tracking down Bruck Chun felt as dire as tracking down Obi-Wan would have. Qui-Gon was all the teen had.

_Perhaps it can be left to someone else?_

He commed AgriCorps headquarters to deliver the news and try to acquire some help. He was directed to the castellan, a Cerean woman named Mi-Dega Ahun.

"He was on board the heavy cruiser," Qui-Gon explained. "He's off-planet, though I cannot tell you precisely where from where I stand."

 _"We don't have small ships that are capable for space travel,"_ Ahun told him, troubled.  _We have large freighters, not very maneuverable and certain to lose against a heavy cruiser. There is no reason for any of our members to have smaller spacecrafts. Not to mention, w_ _e are not warriors._ _Many of the members are young, most have not passed their Trials, or were not selected to be padawans, and have no experience for this kind of undertaking. A lot of us have not even trained in the salles for years."_

He felt like that frustrated Jedi: Anakin.

He released the frustration into the Force, but for once the act was not coupled with the feeling of calm and resolution. Just the vague, almost helpless feeling that what will happen will happen, regardless of denial or wish, no matter how awful or terrible.

* * *

Ahun was correct, and though the corps was eager to do what they could to help, with some even volunteering to use their Force abilities to help Qui-Gon chase after the youngling, danger notwithstanding, there was no appropriate ship. They had clumsy freighters used for transport; these were old, shabby things that were barely maintained and very slow, with the bare minimum of even hyperspace capabilities.

By now, eight hours had passed. Evening was setting in, and Qui-Gon received another comm from Coruscant. This time, it was Tahl.

 _"Any updates?"_ she asked.  _"On either front?"_

"No," Qui-Gon checked the time. "I've given the corps all the info I can. I need to focus on my mission now and trust that the Force is with him."

She was grim.  _"Togorians are known for their honor. There are always outliers, but even their pirates follow a predictable code once you figure it out."_

"That's all we can count on at this point."

He left the headquarters to head to the capital, using a speeder. Night settled, thick and quiet, though the Force hummed unchangingly.

He was not use to failure. Even though all events happen as the Force wills, he could not help but taste bitterness in his mouth, and for once, what had always given him clear answers told him nothing about what was the right choice. He considered Obi-Wan in this position and knew without a doubt that he would have abandoned this Force-forsaken planet to find that boy or die trying. There was no one to do so for Bruck Chun, not even Qui-Gon. And that was a choice: a choice he could justify to everyone for the rest of his existence, state that it was the Jedi way to consider the needs of the many over the needs of the few, that they believed in the Force, that Bruck Chun was not actually his responsibility and his priority was actually Bandomeer, that there was no way for him to get off-planet in time anyway, but in the quiet of the darkness, alone as he flew over the highways, he knew that in the end, his choice really came down to him not caring about Bruck Chun the way he did for Obi-Wan.

This was why the Jedi forbid attachments. And it was difficult for him to tell, with the future so murky, if the lack of affection for this child improved his judgment as a Jedi.

The thoughts built upon themselves in his mind, quite unbecoming for a Jedi Master who was well-practiced in living in the moment. The choice grew haunting, as Bruck Chun's sour countenance was replaced by Obi-Wan's cheerful, kind one. He thought of potentially abandoning Obi-Wan to his fate just because it was too hard to rescue him, and the idea hurt so much that he had to slow the speeder to a stop.

Should he focus on the boy?

But the idea of people dying because he abandoned  _them_ —that could not be condoned either.

 _I'll find out in the capital,_ he decided. He had to get there anyway no matter which he decided to focus on, and he hoped he might find some hint, some sign, as to how to solve this problem.

Three hours later, he arrived at the capital. Almost instantly, the Force flared in warning: something was not right. But he could not zero in on the source, and the inhabitants of Bandor milled about despite the late hour with the usual flow of life; Bandor did not get much sun, and so its inhabitants were use to rising hours before dawn and sleeping hours after dusk.

He stretched his senses out for any direct threats again. Nothing but a vague sense of foreboding. He went to the local library to use the computers, looking at local news and trying to find a pattern for pirate activity. Perhaps unsurprisingly, there was little public information about the exact nature of the pirates and what they tended to target, though the articles suggested different species being involved. Togorians were among them, but many articles did not even mention the types of ships that had been sighted.

 _Some kind of coverup?_ Possible. If he waited another hour, he could sneak into the government offices and look in their databases. Perhaps he could even accomplish two tasks at once, and uncover Bruck Chun's possible location while making progress on his own mission.

An hour later, he arrived at the building. After hours, the security droids had been deployed to prevent anyone without prior authorization to access the facilities. To Qui-Gon's slight annoyance, they were more effective at their jobs than the law enforcers, but dodging them was childsplay for a Jedi Master. Some slicing, and with a deft use of the Force to avoid traps, and he was in one of the secretary offices.

Slicing into the computer was even easier than opening locks, but not every computer had what he needed, and finding the right one took some searching. Eventually, he came across a hard drive that documented transactions, which he downloaded onto a chip to review later. Then he looked for one that mentioned any intelligence on local piracy, but this came up blank.

An extended search proved fruitless. Disheartened, he left the building and flew his speeder to a nearby hostel. The Meerian at the front desk gave him a look of surprise and quickly directed him to a room. Fortunately, they had vacancies. He settled in, feeling disheartened, and sent a message to Ahun, requesting any updates on their end, though he held no hope. If it was this difficult for someone like Qui-Gon to leave the planet to find the child, AgriCorps had no chance.

He then turned his attention to the transactions.

It was slow going, but eventually he noticed that the numbers were all filing to one unnamed destination. There was indeed some kind of fraud taking place, but he did not know where all the money was going.

 _Might have to wait until morning._ Qui-Gon checked for any messages from Ahun, but found nothing. He shut the datapad down in defeat, and sank into meditation.

* * *

_"…Anything?"_

It was that frustrated Jedi again, this time in the temple archives on Coruscant. He was following a Mon Calamari who looked exactly like Padawan Eerin, except much older. She blinked her large eyes sadly, her wide lips drooping.

_"The closest I came was this entry that was once accessed by Obi's master, Qui-Gon Jinn. It talks about a phenomenon called 'Darsant Avat', or Plague of Forces. You can look at it if you want, but it doesn't say much."_

_"I want to see it."_

The boy  _was_  handsome, Qui-Gon decided. Tall, blonde, and blue-eyed, with a strong profile and strong features, but also elegant and graceful in his form rather than bulky. He wore robes of sleek black that made him look sharp and lean, which was a contrast to his more haggard appearance the first time Qui-Gon had seen him. He also looked less exhausted than the first vision, suggesting to Qui-Gon that this scene took place sometime before the first one.

Everything about him radiated youth, but in this vision he also radiated power. There was passion in his aura, but there was so  _much_ aura, all held together by a tenuous grasp of will that could shatter at any moment.

If this child fell to the dark side, the galaxy was doomed.

The Mon Calamari led Anakin to one of the computers and some time passed as he searched and read, his brows coming together in a morbid frown.

_"Why Obi-Wan?"_

_"I don't know, Knight Skywalker."_

The boy slammed the table. Obviously use to his antics, the Mon Calamari did not even flinch.

There was a silence, save for Anakin's heavy breathing, like he was trying not to cry or start a tantrum, or maybe both.

 _"I remember when I first met him,"_ He said softly,  _"He came into the shop, and he was so kind. He felt so kind. I didn't know anything about the Force and I didn't know he was a Jedi but he was just different. Bright. I didn't know what I wanted then, exactly, but I think I had wanted him to stay, wanted to see him again, and when Watto was trying to trick him I thought he was going to leave—I was so worried he was going to leave and that was that. The life of a slave…you're always leaving people. I was fortunate in that I was allowed to stay with my mother, but not all slaves were so blessed. It was so silly."_ He bowed his head.  _"I didn't know what I was hoping for. Maybe find a friend in him. It's so absurd. Why did I want to befriend some guy I just met? I guess it was the Force. He was always different though. Different as a person, different as a Jedi."_ He paused again.  _"I don't think I know anyone else who is nearly as wise. He just knows…people. Knows the galaxy, not just in terms of math, or science, or history and location, but he knows…sentients. Even Master Yoda is removed from the rest of the galaxy. Obi-Wan…doesn't just know. He_  understands. _"_ He let out a slow, quiet breath.  _"Everyone liked him."_

 _"As far as I know,"_ The Mon Calamari said quietly,  _"Obi's master, Qui-Gon Jinn, had been fighting this sort of thing ever since he was a padawan. There was one time when we were young—he was nine and just apprenticed, there was this twi'lek bounty huntress who was using the Force to murder people. She had never seen Obi, had never heard of him, but somehow she knew him. She said the darkness wanted him. It caused a huge stir in the temple, and for a while all the masters stopped what they were doing to investigate. We all thought this ended after a while, Obi-Wan was strong in the Force and he works hard, we thought he could protect himself from whatever is going on."_

Anakin suddenly leaned forward.  _"Did Master Jinn ever go to the Shaman of the Whills?"_

* * *

 Qui-Gon jolted from his meditation just as he heard tentative knocks on the door.

He opened it to come face to face with the thinnest, palest, wannest-looking Arconan he had ever seen.

"Master Jedi," the Arconan whispered, glancing around as if afraid to be seen talking to him, "please, we need your help."

Qui-Gon poked his head out to look up and down the hall. The Arconan was alone. Arconans often referred to themselves as "we", as their culture was very community-based. 

He had half the mind to ask the visitor how he managed to find Qui-Gon; the Jedi had not been on planet long and he hardly announced which hostel he was going to, but that, he decided, was not as important as finding out the purpose of this visit.

"Who are you?"

"Si Treemba. Please, Master Jedi, we must be careful…"

Sensing no danger from the miserable creature before him, Qui-Gon stepped aside and indicated to Treemba that he should enter. The Arconan stepped in, shoulders hunched.

"I am Qui-Gon Jinn. What can I do for you, Si Treemba?"

"I know you, Master Jinn," the Arconan said softly. "I was told to give you this," and from his pocket he took out a datachip. Qui-Gon took it wordlessly, sensing nothing malicious about it. He looked at Si Treemba.

"Who told you to give me this?"

"Boss. Her name is Clat'Ha. She is a chief manager at the mineral harvest corporation. I am one of the miners."

"Why did she ask you to give me this?"

"We need help," the Arconan's large eyes glimmered. "It's too dangerous to go to the authorities. You are our only chance, Master Jinn."

"What will I find on this chip?"

"Corruption. Scandal. Many many credits, hidden away."

_Hm._

The chip ended up having much of the same information as what Qui-Gon pilfered from the administrative offices, but it did include something Qui-Gon had not thought to download: flight itineraries. A rather larger number of them were in clandestine, between Bandor and Thani, Telos IV.

This escalated the mission into something that was far more than just a conflict within a single planet.

"Where is Clat'Ha? Is it possible for me to meet her?"

Si Treemba stuttered. "She is staying in the dorms near the mines, Master Jedi."

"I must go to her. Can you take me there?"

It was close to standard morning once they arrived at the mines, some fifty klicks away from Bandor. Dawn was much later so the sky was dark, but the lights were on in the shabby building Si Treemba led him to. They went inside, where the halls were quiet and smelled vaguely of carpet cleaning solution. A human female, with reddish-brown hair and vivid green eyes, opened the door when Si Treemba commed her. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her face was very pallid.

"Master Jinn," she greeted, then stepped to the side. "Please come in."

* * *

 

There was embezzlement, and money laundering, whilst the administration on Bandomeer was secretly dealing with the Offworlder company and slowly draining the revenue from Arcona Mineral Harvest, of which Clat'Ha was the manager. All of this, Qui-Gon had gathered from his own investigation. The Offworlders, in particular, seemed to be based on Telos IV, though recently the operations have shifted and the transactions have been heading toward a source Clat'Ha was unable to identify. However, as Qui-Gon had hoped, she did have one piece of information that was crucial to Qui-Gon: a hologram, depicting a covert meeting between the mayor of Bandor and an unnamed individual. The cameras captured his profile so that there was no mistaking his identity.

"Xanatos DuCrion."

The hologram was dated earlier in the day.

"What's the location of the meeting?" he asked.

"It's been hours," Clat'Ha sounded confused. "They're not there anymore."

"I can find out where they went from there."

"It's actually in the mines," said Clat'Ha, "in one of the passages that have been closed down. So you know this man, Master Jinn?"

"He's a person of interest," was all Qui-Gon said. "Thank you very much for this information, Chief Manager. I will need to get to this location."

"I can take you there."

Qui-Gon took her offer. She had a small speeder, one that could barely support two people, but they managed, whisking past the entrance to the mines to a gate along the side. As they went, the Force grew heavier and heavier, until Qui-Gon could almost see it with his physical vision: a dark shadow clouding the air.

_Sith._

They came upon the gate. It was dark and quiet, though in about half an hour, Clat'Ha estimated that the workers would begin filing in. Qui-Gon practically leaped off the speeder, barely constraining his gait to a brisk walk. The Force was buzzing and restless. There was activity here, and he sensed that he was not in for a friendly surprise. Past the gate, into the tunnels, unlit but smelling faintly of smoke, all was still and silent. He felt impressions of things, life forms that had occupied this space, workers joking with each other, though all glum and grim; the life of a miner was not a happy one. Behind him, Clat'Ha lit a torchlight. Qui-Gon himself declined activating his lightsaber; he did not want to bring the weapon out just yet and announce what he was, though he had a feeling this was moot.

Si Treemba had accompanied them, and the Arconan was very silent and subdued. He stayed close to Clat'Ha, who followed Qui-Gon's lead. The light of her torch cast eerie shadows in the tunnel. Qui-Gon was not claustrophobic, but with the Force whispering of danger, the hair on his nape stood on end and he found himself paying special attention to the silhouettes painted across the walls.

The passage directed them through another metal gate into a large chamber. Mineral deposits lined the floors, walls, and even the ceilings. Some tools used by the miners during the day had been discarded on the sides, to be picked up later.

The Force was thick here. It was hard for his senses to discern anything.

"You're late," said a voice. Si Treemba startled. Qui-Gon reached a hand to the side to block Clat'Ha from coming forward and, more importantly, from whatever was in front of them from reaching her. She raised the torch, which cast the glow upon the familiar features of Xanatos DuCrion.

"Brought some company too, eh?" the Sith lord stepped forward, black robes brushing against the walls.

"Clat'Ha, Si Treemba," Qui-Gon warned, "Head back, now." His lightsaber was in his hand with a thought, and he turned it on.

From the side, another lightsaber turned on—not DuCrion's. Qui-Gon turned his blade, and saw the pale features of Bruck Chun, holding his own weapon and looking at Qui-Gon with morbid determination.

"Master Jinn," the boy said.

* * *

 

"This, what is?" Yoda indicated a plate with something Obi-Wan had never seen before.

"Pree Denu saw a recipe on the holonet," said the worker, "wanted to give it a try."

"Yes, but what is it?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Chimney Sweeper's Chicken," said the worker. "It's Endorian chicken."

"Invented by chimney sweeper, this was?" Yoda raised his ears.

 _Who still uses chimneys?_ That sounded like a very backwards civilization to Obi-Wan. By several thousand years.

"Well, Endorian chicken's said to be very tasty," he told Yoda.

"Hmmmm…" the Grand Master looked skeptical.

Obi-Wan allowed himself to feel amused. The rest of the cafeteria was oblivious, but he had a feeling others would enjoy the sight of the great Master Yoda puzzled by a new dish. The best thing about Master Yoda, Obi-Wan decided, was how totally normal he sometimes was, like being scared of cockroaches and being worried about getting duped by the cafeteria chef.

But suddenly, the Jedi master shuddered visibly, gasping. For a moment, he froze, ears still up but not moving. After a moment, though, the ears sagged, and though Yoda had always seemed larger than his actual size, he suddenly seemed smaller, wilting like a dried up flower.

"Oh…" Yoda exclaimed softly, "poor youngling. Your friend, he is not…but too late now, it is."

Obi-Wan blinked at him. Did Yoda just receive a vision? Right there, in front of a Chimney Sweeper's Chicken?

His face profoundly sad, Yoda lowered his tray and turned away, clearly having no appetite anymore.

* * *

Qui-Gon almost wished he could claim that he was not expecting Bruck Chun to accept Xanatos' offer of alliance, but he sadly was not. The boy was awfully young, and it was just awful to look at him, this child who once upon a time must have been innocent and pure, perhaps as much as his Obi-Wan, but somehow…

In contrast to Obi-Wan's bright presence, Chun's aura was grey and dim, flickers of rage dancing and weaving in and out like serpents.

"Youngling," the Jedi master tried, "this man is not your friend. You cannot trust his promises."

"I have no chance," Said the boy, lightsaber held at the ready, "Besides, the Order does not want me. Why should I help its members?"

"Master Jinn?" Si Treemba's voice was shaking.

"Leave, now," Qui-Gon did not dare look away. "Both of you, this is Jedi business now."

"And what manner of Jedi business is this?" The Sith taunted as he moved along the walls to go behind the boy. "A Jedi's business is to kill Sith, is it not? Would you slay a child, Jedi Master?"

"Go," Qui-Gon said to Clat'Ha and Si Treemba. He felt them withdraw uncertainly, but far enough that he knew they would ultimately leave this confrontation. He refocused on the matter at hand. "Initiate Chun, listen to me. Being a Jedi is not all there is."

The boy let out a bitter laugh, and he sounded old, beyond his years. "He and I, we use to get into trouble about the same. Both had anger issues, both lost our tempers too easily. Then you came along, and you picked him, and all of the sudden whenever he did anything un-Jedi, everyone thought he was 'so adorable', 'so precious', the Senators fawned over him, ambassadors, governors, but me, when I do something un-Jedi, people just frown and shake their heads. Being a Jedi is not all there is, but it's all I know, and I train hard, I study hard, but all people focus on is _Kenobi._ " Dark jealousy swirled within the child, and with it a hate too profound for a boy of thirteen years. "Anything I do right, people ignore, because they all side with Kenobi against me. Anything I do wrong, just affirms what they always thought about me. Even Master Yoda gave up on me, long before I realized, before I was smart enough to give up myself. Being a Jedi is not all there is, so I don't want to be a Jedi. I don't _care_ for Jedi. I'll go where I am appreciated, and I hope the darkness _does_ take that cursed Kenobi, because it would be just _delicious_! That the star of the order, the one everyone fawned over and twittered, ends up being evil!"

The boy struck, which Qui-Gon blocked easily. He Force-pushed the child back and yanked the lightsaber from the boy's hands and turned his attention to Xanatos.

"A little history there, eh?" The Sith's eyes glowed bright yellow in the shadows as their lightsabers clashed and pressed against each other, "I must admit, little Padawan Kenobi was a delight, but did your order ever consider his effect on others? To boost one to the top requires stepping on many others. It is the way of business, it is the way of politics, it is the way of the Force, and in that regard, you Jedi are no better than Sith. We all do what we must to climb; the only difference is you Jedi lie about it, pretend you are above it all, hypocritically preaching justice and virtue when you steal children from their parents to raise them to one lifestyle, only to toss them aside like garbage when they did not fulfill all of your _requirements._ "

The Force flowed through Qui-Gon, directing his blade, enhancing his reflexes and his focus. He ignored Xanatos' taunts. Perhaps later, if he survived this battle, he could muse over what the Sith said, but not at the moment. Now was not the time for doubt. Bruck Chun tried to interfere, but Qui-Gon easily pressed him to the side where he would not harm himself.

"You prey on a child in his weakest moment," Said Qui-Gon to the Sith, "Though I am not surprised. Your kind are only strong enough to take advantage of those in their weakest moments."

"And who is responsible for that, eh?" Xanatos sneered, "Would we be around to prey on the weak, if the light were strong enough to buffer all?"

"Perhaps not," Qui-Gon raised his blade, "But you are only as strong as the weakest of us."

"Keep thinking that!" Xanatos laughed, "Keep thinking that, and perhaps you might keep thinking that to your last breath!"

For all his attitude, however, as the duel dragged on, it became apparent that Xanatos was no match for a master like Qui-Gon Jinn. The Sith swirled back in a flurry of robes and there was a resounding clang as a heavy metal door slammed shut between him and the Jedi.

Bruck Chun scrambled, but it was too late. Qui-Gon tried to cut his way out, but though the metal reddened under the heat of the plasma, it did not bubble quickly enough. It was possible to cut through eventually, but it would take ages. He pounded on the door, the little one's aura bright with terror.

"Oh by the way," Said Xanatos from the other side, "There's a bomb in the room with you, just so you know. Have fun in there. Or not." He cackled, and then there was silence.


	24. Cry of an Orphan

He grabbed the boy about the torso. "Stop. Stop, now!"

"Let go of me!" Chun screamed, flailing, and Qui-Gon squeezed tighter.

"Calm yourself!" he pressed his face close to the boy's. "I'm here. I'm with you. I'm here."

Chun sobbed, his body seizing as he choked. He bent his elbows and grabbed Qui-Gon's hands as terrified breaths whistled through his throat.

"Deep breaths," Qui-Gon looked around, trying to calm the boy while searching the chamber for the bomb Xanatos spoke of. "Easy. I'm right here. The Force is with us, with you, youngling."

But Chun was too distraught, and he sobbed inconsolably, his hopes raised and dashed all too abruptly. Qui-Gon could feel the little one's Force signature swirling in chaos. He tightened his embrace, focusing only on the here and now, not worrying about the fact that the boy had tried to kill him moments ago, had bullied his precious Obi-Wan all those years. Right now, Bruck Chun was a vulnerable child just like any other, and he was in need of protection and comfort.

"I'm right here," he promised. "I'm staying right here. I won't abandon you."

"We're going to die…"

"The future is not so certain, little one." He cradled Chun close. It was easier than he would have predicted; Chun did not fight him, and holding him felt similar to holding Obi-Wan. They actually had a similar build, for all that their personalities differed.

With the pale-haired lad clinging to him, the Jedi Master looked around the room again. It was very dimly lit, and he was not sure where the bomb was, but it might be in the far side, around the corner somewhere. They would have to move.

"Come," he tugged, and the boy resisted, limbs stiff. "Collect yourself, youngling! Remember what you were taught: there is no death, there is the Force."

Chun gasped out a sob. "There is no Force—there is nothing, no one. There is nothing here, on this side, why would there be anything on the other side?"

They did not have time for this, but Chun now had a death grip on Qui-Gon's tunic. Short of lifting him up and carrying him over, Qui-Gon could not move.

"If we don't move now," he gritted his teeth, "we will know for sure. Now come!"

"The bomb is there!"

"We stand no chance of surviving if we don't disable it."

At last, reason seemed to penetrate, and the boy followed docilely as Qui-Gon approached the other side. He had the boy stay behind him, for whatever good it will do.

The bomb, for all the damage it promised to do, was actually a rather small thing, a timer set to five meager minutes. It was small enough to look like a child's backpack, and at first Qui-Gon had no idea what kind it was; it looked like no explosive he had ever come across—not, of course, that Qui-Gon necessarily encountered too many in his tenure as a Jedi. But the Force resonated in warning, and five minutes counted ominously down to four.

He had no idea how to diffuse it.

 _Good thing Obi-Wan isn't here._ Though what would become of Obi-Wan, if Qui-Gon never returned?  _Surely another master would train him._ But another master would try to choke everything about the boy that Qui-Gon sought to deserve. They would not care for him the way Qui-Gon did, would not throw aside everything else in their life for his sake.

 _Focus. Here and now._ Right now, Bruck Chun was staring hard at the object marking their doom and who knows who else, depending on just how devastating this bomb was.

"The broken circle…" Chun suddenly murmured.

"What?"

The boy pointed at a symbol, made of white metal, carved on the side of the explosive. It looked, frankly, rather unassuming given the multiple parts used to construct it, but once he pointed to it, Qui-Gon remembered that this was the same symbol on many of the Offworlder uniforms. "That circle. That's his trademark. The broken circle…he talked about how he would make it whole again."

_Could it be that easy?_

Three minutes. Do or do not. Qui-Gon reached out.

* * *

Reeft and Garen found Obi-Wan at the fountains.

"The Council masters are upset today," Reeft reported to Obi-Wan. "Did you see Master Yoda? He looked so glum."

"I think he had a vision," Obi-Wan replied. "I was with him and he was staring at that chicken in the cafeteria before suddenly switching moods. I don't know what he saw though."

"Maybe he did see something," said Garen, "but the council's not holding meetings or anything, the way they would if there's a real catastrophe out there."

They settled together, not quite in the mood for meditation yet, and talked about this and that. Reeft's master, Master Ibes, had left him some large files of reading to do, which Reeft was not looking forward to. Like Qui-Gon, Master Ibes had left his padawan at the temple to conduct a mission solo. Garen turned on one of the projectors to show holofootage of the baby nerf that had been born in the Coruscant zoo.

"It's so cute!" Obi-Wan gushed. "I can't believe they're so small. Look at it trotting around—it's so bouncy! But it's so sad that it's all cooped up at the zoo. You should see the nerfs on Aldaraan; they get to run across wide open fields, although they tell me nerfs are too lazy to actually do that."

Obi-Wan's fascination with the great big herbivores never truly eased, though he cycled through other favourites through the years. Part of him would always be fond of those creatures. They were the first animals he had ever seen in the flesh outside Coruscant. Though he actually had poor memory of it, Qui-Gon had told him that they were also the first beasts he successfully used Force persuasion on.

"Maybe during one of the breaks we can go," said Garen.

"We should!" Obi-Wan exclaimed.

They chattered for a while, before Obi-Wan wondered, "Where's Bant? Maybe if we're all free we can go to Dexter's later."

"Let's find out," said Reeft.

Bant, unfortunately, was in a bad mood.

"Master Tahl has been assigned on a mission and she's not taking me," the Mon Calamari complained.

"Join the club," Obi-Wan remarked.

"She's going to be gone for  _weeks_ to Melida Daan," the girl went on, "and she keeps saying that it's too dangerous for me to go, but if it's so dangerous then shouldn't she have someone to look out for her?"

 _Melida/Daan?_ Obi-Wan felt his gut clench for reasons he could not explain.

"You're  _eleven_ ," Reeft exclaimed. "Besides, Master Tahl is a Jedi  _Master_. She knows what she's doing."

"But she's going to be gone for  _so long_ and I'm sick of her leaving me behind all the time. Padawans are supposed to help their masters and learn on these missions and I'm going to end up being a Master of Sitting Around."

Garen chuckled. "Don't worry, Bant. I'm sure when you're old enough, you're going to miss all these times Master Tahl left you at home. In the meantime you can keep Obi-Wan company as the two of you master sitting."

"It's not funny!" Bant looked at them with watery eyes, and the boys quickly sobered when they realized she was genuinely upset.

"Bant," Obi-Wan said cautiously, "did you sense that something might happen to Master Tahl?"

"I'm not as good at the Unifying Force as you are," Bant said immediately. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just making all of this up."

She was still very upset, despite this admission.

"I just have a bad feeling in general," the girl looked down, "but she wouldn't listen to me. Just said that whatever happens will be as the Force wills it."

"There is no emotion, there is peace," Reeft reminded her. "You need to approach this rationally."

"Well, maybe you can tell," Bant looked at Obi-Wan. "Do you…do you think something might happen to Master Tahl?"

"I'm not  _that_ good," Obi-Wan denied, "but maybe we…maybe we should meditate on this?" It was what the masters would do. "We can do this together, and maybe we can figure it out between the four of us."

"I'm in." Reeft wanted any excuse not to do his homework right now.

"Sure," Garen agreed.

Bant rubbed her face with her flippers. "Alright," she breathed in deeply to compose herself. "Alright. Let's do it."

* * *

 

 _Click_ , and it was off.

Chun sagged against him in relief, but the Force continued to blare in warning. Qui-Gon looked around. They were still trapped in the room, and while they might have disarmed the bomb, Xanatos was still at large. Who knew what he was doing, or had already done.

"Come, youngling," he took Chun by the arm. "We need to get out of here as soon as possible."

Qui-Gon was reluctant to try the door, but a quick scan of the other walls revealed nowhere better; the walls yielded more easily than the door did, but they seemed to open only to more of the earth that surrounded the mines, and there was no good way to angle toward the one corridor they were aware of. Fortunately, Xanatos did not post any guards outside; he probably expected the bomb to go off; this sort of arrogance, Qui-Gon found, was typical in the ilk of murderers and other villains. Carving the door did take precious time; the lock ended up being a seal all around the frame, so they had to carve an opening through the door itself.

Chun rushed ahead, Force signature now spitting in anger. Qui-Gon reined in the impulse to correct the child; odd—he never had to do that with Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan had his moments of temper, but he was always self-correcting on his own and rarely needed a reminder from Qui-Gon. Chun would, but he was not Qui-Gon's padawan. And the youngling was not selected to be a padawan. He would not take counsel from a Jedi Master in his state.

Down one of the corridors, they nearly crashed into Si Treemba.

"Master Jedi!" the Arconan exclaimed. "We brought help!"

"Help?" Qui-Gon looked ahead. Sure enough, there were miners; the work shift had started, and they were gathering even as they spoke. The Force shuddered in apprehension, and Qui-Gon looked back at Si Treemba.  _Talk about being helpful in the worst way possible._ "No. They need to leave. We all need to leave these mines,  _now_."

"What?"

"Get them out of here. Do you have an overhead comm? Tell everyone to evacuate. The mines are not safe." Even as he spoke, he realized what the danger was; though he was not absolutely certain, the Sith could have planted more than one bomb. There were other chambers within the mine, and if any of them blew, all of them would be killed. Not to mention the Sith himself was still at large. "Move. Move! Now!"

It took some repeating, and the miners were confused, but eventually they all streamed back the way they came. Qui-Gon rounded up the rest; Chun mostly stood with him uselessly, but as long as the lad was not rushing off, Qui-Gon was thanking the Force. They made it in just a nick of time; there  _were_ more bombs, and the first went off before Qui-Gon and Chun were able to follow everyone out. They heard a low thundering roar, followed by the sizzle of heat, and Chun turned to behold the corridors lighting up by an incoming blast.

They rushed out to find all the miners assembled near the entrance, most of them standing casually with their arms folded and heads cocked, looking confused and even somewhat annoyed. Clat'Ha was there, trying to keep everyone calm.

They all stared as the ground shook. Clat'Ha had a commlink to her mouth and was reporting the situation to someone on the other side.

"Move back!" Qui-Gon ordered, as the Force continued to blare; this was not over yet. "Keep moving back! You all need to move further back!"

Fortunately, the miners obeyed. About half an hour later, another bomb went off. This time, part of the mine collapsed, including the entrance.

"This is a disaster…" Clat'Ha exclaimed, staring at the wreckage.

"Is everyone accounted for?" Qui-Gon asked.

Si Treemba took charge of taking roll.

"You reported this to the authorities?" Qui-Gon asked Clat'Ha.

"For whatever good that will do," the woman murmured.

Qui-Gon pushed Chun toward her. "I have to go take care of something." Xanatos was still loose, and as long as all the miners were outside, Qui-Gon was not going to stick around; even if the miners were in the mine, he would not be able to rescue them now. A Jedi can only do so much. "This is a youngling from the Jedi Temple, soon to be working in AgriCorps. Please watch over him for me."

Clat'Ha looked down at Chun, then at Qui-Gon. "Where are you going? What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to stop the one responsible for all this," said the Jedi, and then looked at Chun. "Wait here with Clat'Ha. She'll take care of you, alright?" He cupped the boy's cheek the way he would with Obi-Wan, and received the child's flabbergasted look in response.

He did not allow himself to dwell on that. "Thank you, Clat'Ha. May the Force be with you."

"May the Force be with you, Master Jedi."

* * *

_Melida and Daan. Melida and Daan._

Melida/Daan was an urban planet; very little of its original landscape remained. For more than a century, the planet had been split between two societies: The Force there was a kaleidoscope of signatures enhanced by the inherent conflict that plagued it. It was said that War painted the mountains and rivers red, and every minute someplace was erupting with explosions from bombs. Parts of it had been utterly destroyed; radiation and poisonous fumes lingered, forcing inhabitants to situate far away. Previous Jedi had been sent there to no avail, but there was hope this time because there was a consensus that if Melida and Daan did not cooperate somehow, the entire planet would be lost.

It would be easy to dismiss Bant's concerns as simply paranoia; Melida/Daan was a dangerous. The planet was like an abscess; angry, chaotic, and unreasonable. Its people were too invested in the hatred that spanned generations. Melida children were brought up to hate Daan; Daan children were taught to despise Melida. Sending a mere negotiator, even someone like Tahl, was a futile gesture; the point was in making one at all, and not in its success.

But this was more than just idle worry. The Force resonated ominously over the planet, and Obi-Wan could sense its shadow over Tahl. If she went, she would be forever changed.

Qui-Gon would be forever changed. Bant would be forever changed.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes. "Bant! We have to talk to Master Tahl!"

Tahl was in the Archives, looking at the holocomputer and taking notes. She greeted the younglings absently when they arrived.

"Master Tahl!" Obi-Wan exclaimed in a hushed voice; there were other Jedi around, and they could not be too loud. "You can't go to Melida Daan!"

Tahl's eyes snapped to him, and then to Bant with a frown. "Padawan," she began.

"No, it's true!" Garen broke in. "Something very bad will happen to you if you go! We all saw it!"

Tahl leaned away from the computer. "And what, exactly, will happen to me if I go?"

That was not so clear, meaning that it was still to be determined. If a blaster bolt was shot a millisecond later, or just a touch too far to the left. If it was even a blaster bolt at all.

"You won't return unscathed," said Obi-Wan. "Melida Daan will cripple you, until you join the Force—if you return at all."

Tahl gave him a long look.

"Look," she sighed, "I was assigned because they need someone to go. If it isn't me, it's someone else." She looked at all of them. "Whom would you select to be crippled in my place?"

The padawans stared at her in dismay. It was one thing to face the possibility of injury and death when on a mission; it was another to boldly walk into it. Tahl set her datapad aside and held out a hand to Bant, but the girl began sobbing. Around them, other Jedi looked at them curiously. Garen, Reeft, and Obi-Wan quickly formed a protective circle to shield her from view.

"Padawan," Tahl gathered the girl to her. "Listen to me. Everything will be just fine. This, I can promise you. Whatever happens is for the best. There is no death, there is the Force, and one day we all join it. Even Grand Master Yoda must. Do you understand?"

But Bant was inconsolable, and Obi-Wan could sympathize. The thought of Qui-Gon running into trouble right now filled him with a sense of dread. He suddenly wanted to find a commlink and contact his master, but they could not do that in the Archives, and he also did not want to distract Qui-Gon.

Tahl finally abandoned her research, tucking Bant against her as they left the station. "Come, padawan, let's go to our rooms."

Bant had stopped crying, but her Force signature was still tight with distress. Garen, Reeft, and Obi-Wan remained in the Archives after the two females left.

"Poor Bant," said Garen.

"Poor Master Tahl," said Obi-Wan.

The three remained together, unwilling to part after that. Reeft reluctantly started doing his homework, and the quiet of the library, though not as ideal as the fountains, made for an acceptable place to meditate. Obi-Wan felt along the link between him and his master, reassured by its strong thrum. Qui-Gon seemed to be doing something that required a lot of focus. His master also seemed to be unhappy for some reason, though Obi-Wan could not figure out why, and he dared not probe. Their bond was strong, among the Order, but there were certain things Obi-Wan still could not do, simply because he did not have enough experience yet.

 _What will happen if something happened to Qui-Gon?_ Obi-Wan did not even want to contemplate. He was aware that Qui-Gon was special among the Jedi, that not only was he wise, skilled with the saber and the Force, and generally well-liked by non-Jedi, he also regarded Obi-Wan in a way no other master would. Most masters kept their distance from their padawans, observing boundaries to avoid forming attachments. Qui-Gon never remonstrated Obi-Wan for being clingy, or being affectionate. And no one else in the entire galaxy would care about Obi-Wan as much as Master Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan, in return, did not trust anyone as much as he trusted Qui-Gon. The thought of losing him made Obi-Wan want to weep too.

 _But I really might lose him._ It was not the first time Obi-Wan thought of this, but each time was like a kick in the gut. He tried to release this to the Force, but while it worked each time to soothe him, the apprehension would build up again. The feeling was very vague, indistinguishable from regular paranoia, but Obi-Wan wondered if the fear was founded in a truth hidden in the Force.

And if it was, what he was supposed to do about it.

* * *

Tracking down the Sith was difficult because Qui-Gon had limited tools at his disposal. The speeder had been sabotaged, and most of the miners had commuted to work, which meant that Qui-Gon had trouble finding another. He did manage to procure one, thankfully, and then the chase began.

Xanatos was heading toward the space station, presumably to leave the planet. Qui-Gon arrived just in time to see a private carrier pull in.

Qui-Gon was not known as a maverick for nothing. Rather than confront them directly, he stretched out with the Force. With a twist, he jerked the one thruster aside, then the second, and then Xanatos was onboard and it was pulling away. The Jedi ran forward, dashing past the security who tried to stop him, just as the ship tried to lift off.

One side lifted up, but the other pushed parallel to the ground, causing it to slide horizontally until it met an empty freighter; the thrusters were pointing the wrong way, so it could not get airborne. It tilted, until it was completely vertical, and then plummeted over in a flip, toppling back onto the landing pad upside down.

Alarms blared throughout the station. Qui-Gon ignored this. He turned on his lightsaber, announcing his identity, and the Bandomeerians gave him a wide berth. Xanatos leaped out from the hull and engaged Qui-Gon as soon as the Jedi approached.

Between the cross of their blades, Xanatos' red and Qui-Gon's green, the Sith sneered, irises yellow with red vessels crossing the surface.

"Didn't figure you'd survive the bomb,  _Master Jinn_."

"I have my ways." Qui-Gon shoved the Sith back and struck. Xanatos was not his equal in a saber duel; this both of them knew after engaging on Naboo. He raised his hand and Qui-Gon, wise to it now, raised his blade up to block the lightning spewing from the younger man's fingers. Xanatos threw his saber at Qui-Gon, who dodged with a sideways flip. He exchanged a few more blows, burning the Sith's bicep, scorching his robes, and nearly slicing off a lock of his hair. Xanatos tried the lightning again, which Qui-Gon blocked once more.

Then Xanatos drew his hands up and yanked with the Force. Behind Qui-Gon, an ominous crack, followed by a groan, heralded the breaking of the rafters in the station. The Jedi master was compelled to turn his back on the Sith, who used the opportunity to attempt a strike. Qui-Gon was forced to dodge, while the broken beams hurled down toward the ground. Screams resonated from below as more of the rafters cracked.

Torn, Qui-Gon chose to abandon Xanatos to rescue those within the station. The beams were heavy, some framed with steel, and it took considerable mental focus to keep all of them from plummeting onto the would-be victims below. The distance made it harder, so he turned off his lightsaber to run closer.

"Hurry, Master Jedi!" he heard the Sith cackle, and gritted his teeth. Xanatos will escape because of this, but Qui-Gon had made his choice.  _Stick to the here and now,_ he reminded himself. If he was going to save these people, he might as well do it properly. More of the ceiling crumbled without the proper framework, and Qui-Gon had to catch the chunks that loosened before they could crush those below.

By the time he finished, his head was spinning a little. Qui-Gon gasped for breath, aware that his robes were soaked with sweat. He looked back toward the flopped ship, aware that he had lost his quarry—only to blink in surprise. There was that red lightsaber—and another one, clashed together.

_Bruck Chun?!_

"You  _bastard!_ " the boy shrieked. "You piece of  _banthaspit!_ I  _trusted_ you!"

The initiate pulled back and struck again with a furious cry. Xanatos, stronger and bigger, easily blocked the attempt and twisted the saber out of the boy's grip. Weaponless, Chun stood no chance. With a thrust, the Sith plunged the blade through the child, and then sliced up cutting the upper body in half. Chun's body twitched as it toppled over. He had made no sound.

The Sith then looked over at Qui-Gon, who had frozen, unable to move. He raised a hand in a sneering salute, before turning and dashing away. Some part of Qui-Gon knew he should give chase, but a cold froze his limbs completely still. His eyes remained fixed on the smoldering remains of the boy, now rendered almost unrecognizable after that brutal dismemberment.

_"Get the first aid kit!"_

_"Everyone, please proceed to Bay Area Four. Repeat, please proceed to Bay Area Four."_

_"We need personnel over here!"_

Qui-Gon stared for a long time. By the time he was able to move again, Xanatos was long gone.

* * *

 "We will give him a Jedi's burial," Ahun said softly. "He died fighting a Sith, after all."

Qui-Gon could not stop looking at the charred remains of the boy's face, split in two. In this manner, it did not even look like a human face at all. It did not look like any sort of face. The whole nose was missing because the lightsaber was so thick, as were most of his lips and all of his front teeth. His torso was also split in two, though they had pinned the halves together the best they could; much of his vertebrae had been vaporized by the plasma blade, leaving channel in the middle of his body where flesh would have been. Laid out on the table, he seemed very small. Only an initiate, barely old enough to be a padawan. At his age, Qui-Gon would have left him in the temple when going on dangerous missions, just as he had for Obi-Wan.

Next to him, Clat'Ha stood with her arms folded, head hunched over a little. The woman felt guilty for losing track of Bruck Chun; he had entrusted him to her, after all. Of course, teenagers could be difficult to handle, and Bruck Chun was an angry Jedi initiate. One who was more resourceful than anyone had given him credit for; he had actually secured a separate speeder before Qui-Gon did, and went a different route toward the space station, hence Qui-Gon's ignorance of his activities.

All that, a waste.

"Master Jinn," Clat'Ha raised her hand to lay it on Qui-Gon's arm. "I'm sorry for your loss."

 _His_ loss? It should not be. Bruck Chun was not his padawan. He was just a youngling, and other than also training in the same temple as Qui-Gon had, there was nothing to link the two of them. They did not even like each other. Certainly, Qui-Gon's priority this time had not been the boy; Bandomeer's corruption scandals were still unresolved at this time, and if anything, Chun had been a nuisance, causing trouble with his escapades and refusal to stay put.

But this was a boy that had been in the same créche as Obi-Wan. Had been brought to the temple in the hopes of becoming a great individual, one who could make a difference in the galaxy. Even with his numerous personality flaws, there was still a great deal this child could have contributed. He could have matured, emotionally and mentally, to become someone as important to the galaxy as any Jedi Knight. At some point, this youngling had been filled with hope. Had dreams. And though there was no question his demise came at his own hand, Qui-Gon could not deny the well of grief swirling in his chest. A lump of flesh, soon to be ash. All they could say was he fought a Sith and perished.

"Master Jinn?" Ahun called again.

Qui-Gon took a deep breath. "I'm alright. Forgive me."

"Not at all," said the castellan. She, unlike most Jedi knights, had a family with children. A blessing that those in the Corps were allowed. "It's always hard to see a youngling die. That is natural."

 _Natural._ Nothing was actually natural about all of this.

"Would you like to spend some time with him?" the castellan asked.

Spend more time with a hunk of meat? So that he could imprint more of Chun's present state in his mind? How would that be helpful?

"No. There is more work to be done. I am sorry I was not able to deliver him…safely, to your hands."

Ahun inclined her head. "That was no fault of yours, Master Jedi. We appreciate what you have done."

He turned to Clat'Ha. "There is more work to be done. I think you and I should get down to business."

Clat'Ha's eyes were searching, but she nodded after only a brief hesitation. "Of course, Master Jinn. I am ready whenever you are. The mines have suffered considerable damage, but if we can prove the Offworlders are behind this, we can get funding to recuperate, amongst other things."

"Let's get started then."

 


	25. The Whills

Tahl left shortly before his master returned. He was very subdued, and many of the Jedi Masters who came across him asked him if he was alright. When Obi-Wan finally had a chance to talk to him, Qui-Gon waved at him to be silent, and they proceeded to their quarters without speaking. Once there, Qui-Gon dropped all of his belongings, and then wrapped Obi-Wan in a close hug. They stayed like this for a good ten minutes, while his master's Force signature churned uneasily.

Something happened on Bandomeer, but when Obi-Wan finally had a chance to ask, Qui-Gon merely said that he fulfilled his mission. He did not divulge any details, and the expression on his face made Obi-Wan afraid to probe.

He wished Tahl were here, because Qui-Gon always seemed less worried after talking to her. He was not sure how to bring up her absence, given his master's mood. He dearly wanted to confide in Qui-Gon about the vision. Master Qui-Gon would know what to do. He would make things better. But Qui-Gon looked so  _tired_ , and something made Obi-Wan hold his tongue. Now was not the time.

"You've been good?" his master asked, when they sat down to sup.

Obi-Wan nodded, a little cowed.

Qui-Gon studied him for a little bit, and then smiled. His eyes softened. "I'm proud of you, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan allowed himself to smile back. "I try, Master."

"Do or do not," Qui-Gon scolded.

"Well, I can't  _force_ you to be proud," Obi-Wan pointed out.

Qui-Gon laughed at this, and his melancholy seemed to fade for a moment. Unfortunately, it came back a few minutes later, the bond weighing heavy with a sadness Obi-Wan could not understand.

"Master?"

"Obi-Wan," his master said softly without looking up from his plate, "the galaxy is a harsh place, but…that cannot compare to how harsh we can be to ourselves." He reached out and took Obi-Wan's hand. "No matter what happens, know that you matter. Whatever anyone does, whatever this Order says, however anyone treats you, know that you  _matter._ "

"Master!" Obi-Wan was getting scared. Qui-Gon finally looked up, and his expression was the most serious Obi-Wan had ever seen.

"Promise me you won't forget that, Obi-Wan."

This was important. It was important that Obi-Wan promise this. But what was he promising?

"I promise," he said anyway.

It seemed to satisfy his master though, and that soft smile was back. Qui-Gon nodded and released Obi-Wan's hand. They ate. When Obi-Wan stood up to clear the dishes, Qui-Gon also stood, then bent down to press a kiss on Obi-Wan's head.

He had not done that in a while.

Before Obi-Wan could ask him again about the mission and whatever was bothering him, the older Jedi turned and went to his room, sliding the door shut. His end of the bond went quiet.

 _Huh._ Obi-Wan sighed.

* * *

_He should not have given in to his rage._

_Anger leads to the dark side._

_He was headed in that direction. That was why he was not chosen. He was always a spiteful youngling. His own choices led to his destiny._ The buzz of platitudes rocked in Qui-Gon's skull, and he dearly wished Tahl were here; it was a very unpleasant surprise to learn that she was not on Coruscant, and will not be for some time. These days, it seemed like fewer and fewer fellow Jedi can really understand Qui-Gon anymore, and this latest development…even Qui-Gon was not entirely certain why he was so affected.

He never even liked the boy. Regarded him as harmful to Obi-Wan. Bruck Chun was certainly none of Qui-Gon's business. And the fact that he had never been anyone's business…that had nothing to do with Qui-Gon either. But just because Chun had not been likeable did not mean he was still not a vulnerable child, with thoughts and feelings and a need for someone to care about him. His fall felt like a failure on the part of the Jedi, because he did not seem to have received what he had needed. And Qui-Gon thought of Chun's parents who had given the boy up, thinking he would grow up to be a great and esteemed protector of the galaxy, surrounded by those who would provide the best for him. He prayed they never learn what had befallen their child. If it had been him, he would never want to know.

Seeing Obi-Wan was soothing, and the young one's Force presence quieted the anxiety that thrummed through him. The two of them did not talk much; Obi-Wan sensed Qui-Gon's disquiet and was himself perturbed, but he responded with happy complacency when Qui-Gon tucked him in when it was bedtime and fell asleep with an ease that Qui-Gon found himself envying deeply. It was strange, how seeing his little one sleep so well almost made up for his own poor rest.

In the morning though, despite only getting a couple of hours, Qui-Gon remembered something he had wanted to do. With no missions pending and Tahl away, he decided to approach the Council with one of his own.

He found Yoda and Ki-Adi after breakfast.

"I want to go to the Shaman of the Whills."

Yoda's ears flickered slowly, while Ki-Adi Mundi folded his arms.

"The Ancient Order of the Whills does not see just anyone."

"They will see me," Qui-Gon said with confidence. "I would not be surprised if they had expected me sooner."  _Perhaps years ago._

"The Sith Lord is still at large," Said Ki-Adi, glancing at Yoda, "Perhaps they might help with the matter."

Qui-Gon found it a bit startling to realize that he had not even thought about that. Anyone else would, because no one else knew what he knew.

"Doubtful, I am," Yoda shook his head, "But attempt this, we may. Take young Kenobi, will you?"

 _Should he?_  Qui-Gon did not want to worry the boy. It would be good for him to go to the Whills, but…so far Obi-Wan knew nothing about Darsant Avat.

"I'm not sure. I do not know if that is wise."

"No danger, this is," Yoda pointed out.

"Why take the padawan?" Ki-Adi asked, looking at the elder master in bemusement.

"Hm," Yoda chose not to answer, "Up to you, this is."

"I'll think about it," Qui-Gon murmured.

Yoda hobbled away on his stick, while Ki-Adi waited behind.

"The issues you were dealing with when you first bonded with the boy," He remarked, "They never did go away, did they?"

"What do you mean?"

"I remember how you were," The other Jedi shook his tall head, "It is obvious, however, that the Force had engineered this on purpose. Communication over light years is not unheard of, but they come rarely. The fact that the youngster managed to do it…either young Kenobi is very stubborn, or the bond between you two is extraordinary."

Qui-Gon did not reply. He was preoccupied with deciding whether or not to take Obi-Wan with him. There should be no  _harm_ , really, but the boy was so carefree now…ignorance was not the Jedi way, but neither was there any good reason to force Obi-Wan to deal with something he had no control over.

"Perhaps it was a combination of both," Ki-Adi finished. "Perhaps the young padawan is destined to defeat the evil that threatens the galaxy now."

That did not feel right, and Qui-Gon could tell that Ki-Adi thought the same.

"If his purpose is that, it would likely be indirect."

_Like a teacher._

"Hm," Said Ki-Adi, "Well, whatever you decide, Master Jinn, may the Force be with you." He inclined his head briefly, before departing.

Qui-Gon wavered for a while, before heading to see his padawan.

* * *

Qui-Gon had decided  _not_ to bring Obi-Wan, since he did not want to stress him, but now he wondered if he had deprived the child of a rare opportunity to speak to the shamans here. They lived on a world that had idyllic mountains covered with forests, and the Force had guided him up the slopes to a small pavilion that looked like it had grown there, but there were no paths leading to it and no other structures around. It was on the side overlooking a steep drop, surrounded by the trees of other mountains. On one side was a gorge and rainbows scattered in the spray.

A young shaman was standing with his side profile facing Qui-Gon. He had black hair and light ivory skin, and his eyes were a pale blue. He looked to be at most in his twenties, though his face appeared even more childish. When he spoke, however, it carried the maturity of the ages.

"We have been waiting for you, Master Jedi."

Qui-Gon considered how to answer this, before deciding he did not have to.

"I have questions," He said, stopping in front of the pavilion.

The shaman did not respond, and after a moment, Qui-Gon walked up to join him. It was truly a beautiful view; the trees were a vibrant, rich green, and the Force was full here, lifting and freshening the air like a sweet fragrance.

"Darsant Avat," the shaman stated, "The darkness attacks anything that will allow it to win. Most often, it is the defenses of the Force itself, but sometimes these defenses concentrate in sentients. Such is young Kenobi."

Qui-Gon paused. He knew this already. "How do I protect him?" He asked.

"You cannot," the shaman replied. "You are but one man, one Jedi. You cannot hope to defeat an entire essence of the Force, not unless it lets you, and in reality, the Dark Side is a often wise force that knows its place, and recedes when time is due. Now is not its time, and it will not relent. Your child will wither, he will die, and his essence will be depleted. He will not join the Force, for he will cease to exist."

A cold terror clamped over Qui-Gon's heart. He thought of the vision, of how sickly Obi-Wan had looked, of how Anakin had burst into tears. ' _I'm supposed to be the Chosen One_ …'

"What do you mean, 'He will not join the Force, for he will cease to exist'?"

"Exactly what you think."

For a while, Qui-Gon struggled with how to react. He blinked rapidly, feeling disoriented by the calm serene environment while his own thoughts spun at the news.

"Why tell me this?" He asked softly, "I was driven to bond with a child whose talents I do not even complement. The Force linked us together so that I see his visions. It would have me neglect the Sith that threaten the galaxy in favor of protecting the child, only so that he can be sacrificed?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi." The young man sounded almost musing as he spoke. "In him is the true heart of the Jedi. Nobility, compassion, courage, wisdom. Power, with love. Strength, with beauty. So many life forms grace this galaxy, but when he came, the very Force stopped and watched. Sometimes sentients have a foundation set in the grey. His was not. It is what makes him so appealing, so important, that Darsant Avat would localize to him. You spared him his life on Bandomeer, but avoiding that battle is what will cost him in the end."

Qui-Gon's hands clenched. "He was not ready. I followed what the Force told me. You are saying I made a mistake."

"There was no way that could have changed," the shaman turned to Qui-Gon, his face expressionless and his eyes unfocused. Qui-Gon realized this young man was actually blind.

"If I—"

"Darsant Avat would target him either way. Your attachment to him ensured you would come here and learn what you must do to save him."

"You said I can do nothing to protect him."

"Not directly."

"Then…what?"

The shaman turned, and Qui-Gon saw that there was now a path leading down the slope. It was not very steep, and it wound around the edge to continue overlooking the pool. The shaman left the pavilion, and Qui-Gon followed. For a while, the two walked slowly in silence.

"Look there," Said the young man, raising a hand to point, his aim unerring even though he was not looking with his eyes.

Qui-Gon looked. Ahead was a distant mountain, covered in mist. He was not sure what he was looking for.

"We must go there," Said the shaman.

* * *

They walked.

Despite the richness of the Force, there was little movement here. The wind hardly blew, and there were no insects, no birds. They descended down the mountain and circled to the one Qui-Gon had been looking at, and as they went, the mist shrouded over them and colors began to bleach into grey. The Force, too, became colder, more and more sinister. The shadows became longer, deeper, and they made a turn around the now-dead trees to behold the Jedi Temple, barely standing, pillars dusty and colors faded. It looked like it had been abandoned for decades. At the front, Anakin stood, but he looked different from the boyish youth of the visions. His eyes were yellow and glowing as they glared at Qui-Gon, his chin was lined and dry and there was an odd snarl curling the corner of his lips. His hair of dark gold flapped over his shoulders as a mournful wind blew.

 _"I will end the Jedi,"_ Said the vision, and his voice sounded haughty, filled with anger, even though his Force presence still exuded the same calm of the shaman. _"I will bring about an era of misery and suffering, and I will do this, regardless of whether I am trained."_

Qui-Gon faltered, aghast. "…Why?"

 _"Because,"_ Anakin turned to regard the ruins behind him, _"I am the Chosen One, and I will bring balance to the Force. The Light needs Darkness, and the Darkness needs light. Such is the way the universe is built."_ He stalked forward, away from them. Qui-Gon followed, his throat tight as he beheld the decomposed skeletons wrapped in decayed Jedi tunics. Some of the corpses were very small.

When the shaman spoke, it was startling; Qui-Gon had forgotten he was there.

"Do you know the way of the Whills, Master Jinn?"

"No." It was surreal, walking through these halls. They were so different from the halls Qui-Gon knew, and the promise that this was in the future made it all the more horrifying.

"All Force-sensitives follow the Force," Said the shaman, "But also the Force follows Force-sensitives, and when one passes into the Force, one becomes part of its will. Time is not linear outside this plane, and one can change the future and past, if one is powerful enough."

It took a moment for Qui-Gon to comprehend. "You are saying that once we are dead, it is possible to go back in time to alter events."

"There are limits, of course, as with all things." Anakin disappeared into the shadows, and Qui-Gon was forced to stop. The shaman slowed as well. "Plus, the strength of one's Force abilities determines what one can do, which is why you are not able to protect the child from what seeks to ruin him."

Qui-Gon stared. "Then this Anakin can?"

"Yes."

"But…" The master lifted his hand to his head, as if doing so could give him an idea, "The child might not even be born yet. And you said that Obi-Wan will find him. What do I have to do?"

The shaman looked away, and as Qui-Gon looked to the side as well, he saw that they were looking into the hallway that led to his apartments. It was noticeably well-kept compared to the rest of the temple, or whatever Force representation this place was.

The shaman said nothing, but Qui-Gon sensed that he was to head forward. The young man did not stop him, and so, emboldened, Qui-Gon headed toward the doors that he knew led to his own quarters.

The plaque on the door had a single name: OBI-WAN KENOBI. Obviously, this was sometime after Obi-Wan was knighted, but did not have a padawan. Qui-Gon did not dwell much on it; Obi-Wan's knighthood was a certain thing, as far as he was concerned, and though he was heartened to know that Obi-Wan  _would_ live to be knighted, there were more pressing issues at hand.

The door opened despite not being his any longer, and he stepped in to find the living room slightly altered, but mostly the same. Most of Qui-Gon's things were still there, and in a rush the master realized that he must have died not long after Obi-Wan had been knighted, because he could see no other reason why Obi-Wan would be occupying his room instead of another.

There were people in the living room, however. Anakin was pacing back and forth. He was not dressed as a Jedi, instead he was a reasonably wealthy civilian, and this time around he did not even seem to have what meager control his Jedi self had. His hair was short, though he needed a haircut to get it properly trimmed, and his face was symmetrical, with both eyes blue. On the couch was a woman, rubbing her very pregnant belly. Her hair was brown and adorned with jewels. She looked beautiful and young, her eyes intelligent and bright. She was dressed elegantly, and the style was similar to Naboo.

The door to Qui-Gon's room was closed. The door to Obi-Wan's room was open, but bare, as if no one lived there.

Qui-Gon stepped into the living room and the door slid closed behind him. The two occupants seemed unaware that he was there.

 _"How long does he have?"_ Asked the young woman.

 _"They don't know,"_ Anakin said despondently.

The young woman bowed her head. _"He's strong. He can make it."_

 _"It's not about strength."_ The boy shook his head. They were both speaking in low voices, but Qui-Gon could hear the tears in his voice. _"You can't fight against death. Not without turning into a Sith, or something."_ He raised his hand to cover his face. _"You know he gave it all up for me?"_

_"Ani…"_

_"I was supposed to be the **Chosen One** ,"_ Anakin whirled away from her and headed to the window, where he stared out at a skyscape Qui-Gon could not perceive, _"I was supposed to be the Chosen One, the one who is strong enough to bring balance to the Force. I'm…I'm even stronger than Master Yoda. Supposedly. He knew this. That idiot knew this. He didn't train me."_

 _"Obi-Wan is not an idiot,"_ The woman said gently.

 _"No,"_ Anakin breathed heavily, shuddering, _"But he is. Or maybe not. I guess he never anticipated that I would ever learn of this. I wasn't supposed to know. He knew I could get rid of the Sith forever, make the Jedi the only ones in the galaxy…but he didn't train me…he didn't train me."_ He shook his head and sighed.

_"Why not?"_

Anakin wavered physically, actually rocking from side to side as he hunched over, suddenly looking very small and young.

 _"Because…he wanted me to live my own life."_ He whispered, and laughed brokenly. _"He wanted me to have a chance to live a normal life, and not have to answer to anyone. He didn't want me to live the life of a Jedi, where I'd have to s-sacrifice, to give things up…I mean, I still can, but he didn't want people to expect that from me. So all he did was teach me all these stupid tricks…"_ With that, a cushion from the couch levitated as Anakin reached out, and he slammed it into the wall. Considering the things in the room he could have thrown, this was fairly mild. _"How's that going to help him, huh?"_

 _"I don't think he expected to fall sick like this, Ani,"_ The woman pointed out, _"He was young. We were all young. We had no idea what the future held for us. If you had been a Jedi, we would not have been able to get married."_

 _She's his wife,_  Qui-Gon thought. Somehow, Anakin was…not a Jedi, in this vision.

Anakin suddenly whipped his head to look at the closed door.

 _"Ani?"_ The woman blinked. _"What's wrong?"_

 _"It's Obi-Wan,"_ And Anakin was rushing to the door. It slid open, and he hurried inside. His wife managed to push herself off the couch awkwardly and went in after him.

Knowing that no one could see him anyway, Qui-Gon followed, but when he went through the entrance, he emerged on the bridge of a ship in space. This time Anakin was dressed in black again, a cloak spilling from his tall shoulders and his hair grown long lik Qui-Gon's own, but his eyes were a hard yellow and his skin looked aged. There were men and women scattered about at their stations, and the viewport showed an ongoing battle.

_"Milord, a Jedi is flying just ahead."_

_"Shoot him down,"_ Anakin's eyes narrowed. Qui-Gon, having seen the yellow-eyed youth at the steps of the temple, recognized that he was no longer the bright, shining presence from before. He was saddened that the boy seemed to have turned to the Dark Side. On his belt was a lightsaber, likely red.

On the viewport, the blaster bolt hit, and the ship exploded into pieces. There were flashes as other ships blasted into hyperspace.

 _"Follow them!"_ Cried a man who looked like some kind of admiral.

 _"Leave them,"_ Anakin interrupted, _"They will only keep running, but they have nowhere to hide."_ He turned around, his cloak swirling about him, and stalked from the bridge. Qui-Gon followed, wondering if he was going to emerge someplace else entirely, but the doors opened to reveal a corridor and when Qui-Gon went through, he followed Anakin seamlessly. After a few turns, Anakin finally entered a chamber with a bed and another viewport of space. Qui-Gon entered as well, wondering what he would see.

There was a bed, which Anakin sat on after staring for a moment. He seemed to stare into space, thinking, but since there was no one to talk to, it was unlikely he would say anything. Qui-Gon took the opportunity to explore the room. It was very clean and sterile, with no decorations of any kind, but on a computer were some files, still open. A quick glance told Qui-Gon it had something to do with using the Dark Side of the Force to resurrect the dead.

There was a buzz of a lightsaber being turned on, and Qui-Gon turned around, alarmed. Anakin was simply waving it around though, and it was not the one he had in his belt, at least not the one he showed everyone. This lightsaber was blue, and while it was not the one Obi-Wan had constructed on Ilum, Qui-Gon still had a feeling it was his.

Anakin then turned on his own lightsaber, which was red as Qui-Gon had expected, and seemed to compare the two. The two blades seemed to divide his face, with the blue blade painting one side a fair light, and the red blade casting his other a shadowy darkness. He then turned both off, and then turned off the lights with telekinesis, casting the entire room in black.

Startled, Qui-Gon was still for a moment. Then there was a wind, and clouds dispersed above to show a moon. Qui-Gon was suddenly surrounded by trees, and in the air there was the scent of smoke and blood.

He looked to the side and gasped. There was a field where bodies littered by the thousands. Aghast, he walked to the field, where there seemed to be women and children dead with their men. A few Jedi scattered, their robes distinct though burnt by blaster bolts, and there were even young padawans, some only as old as Obi-Wan, their eyes staring sightlessly up or to the side or into the ground as the wind lifted their dead braids.

Feeling sick, Qui-Gon tried to find a way to escape this terrible vision. He stumbled past the bodies, slipping on the dirt clumsily and found his way back to the trees. Leaning against a trunk, he shut his eyes to recover his wits and to suppress the wave of nausea that swept through him. As he exhaled, there was the sound of laughter.

 _Who could be laughing at this?_  He opened his eyes to look, but he was suddenly in another forest, and the field of bodies was gone. Instead, there was a small clearing with a jolly campfire in the distance, around which sat several people. The Jedi went closer, stepping carefully out of habit, though it was unlikely any of these people would be aware of him either.

There was a man and a woman, both young, with the man resembling Anakin and the woman resembling his wife. They sat together with another tall, rugged-looking man who in turn sat next to a wookiee.

 _"So you're saying that Anakin Skywalker fell to the Dark Side for nothing?"_ The rugged man remarked while the wookiee growled the same question.

 _"You can't save someone through anger,"_ Said the man who resembled Anakin. _"You direct the Force through what you learn in life, and all he knows is how to direct it using anger."_

_"He wasn't born a Sith though. You said this Kenobi saved him and he seemed to kind of like this guy."_

_"The issue is,"_ Said the woman, _"He does not know Light Side techniques. He has raw power, more than Luke and I, but the things he has to do, they require as much finesse as blunt force. Father trained directly as a Sith. Even if he does go into the light, I doubt he would know how to save Kenobi."_

 _How can he not know Light Side techniques?_  Qui-Gon blinked.  _Wait, did Obi-Wan train him or didn't he?_ All his prior visions…but this… _what's going on?_

 _"How would he save Kenobi anyway?"_ The wookiee growled that all this sounded rather absurd.

 _"He needs to alter time,"_ Said the woman, _"We're not sure how, but we do know this, since Father never actually trained as a Jedi, he can never die as a Jedi, not truly. Only Jedi, and those like Jedi, have the ability to influence the past, present, and future. The Sith can too, but only to destroy, and Kenobi's already destroyed."_

 _"That's so convoluted."_ Said the rugged man. _"No wonder I didn't believe in the Force at first. You Force people don't even know what's going on yourselves and you can actually sense the freaking thing."_

_"Well, it's more because all the Jedi are gone. We would know more if we had more resources, but Father burned them all."_

_"Why would he do that?"_

_"The Dark Side does not just make you look cool in black,"_ Luke said dryly, _"It also makes you go mental, do things out of passion rather than sense."_

There was a silence at this.

 _"I just feel very bad,"_ Luke then sighed, _"If I were stronger…but I'm not as strong as my father, and I am not powerful enough to influence the past so correctly. I'd do it, if only because Kenobi didn't deserve what he got."_ He shook his head.

A flurry of leaves showered down, and when they passed Qui-Gon found himself in a room. Luke sat with his head bowed. There was a blurry blue figure that resembled an older Anakin, one who was perhaps in his forties or fifties.

 _"He's not there,"_ Anakin was saying softly, his eyes filled with turmoil, _"My master…Obi-Wan…he's not there. He's not anywhere. He's…just…gone. It's like he's never existed. Qui-Gon told me that he never passed into the Force when he died, that when he died his spirit just…disappeared. There was…there was no one to save."_

Luke seemed unsurprised by this. _"I'm sorry, Father."_

 _"Heh,"_ Anakin looked away, _"It figures that I would learn the wrong side of the Force for this kind of thing. But Obi-Wan," And the very air sank with his despair, "He did not deserve this. He did not. He never deserved any of this. Please, Luke, when the child comes, try to tell Mara…name him…name him—"_

A shadow passed over the room, and while Qui-Gon was still reeling over the sheer sorrow of the vision, he was suddenly in an office. A tall young man who was very recognizable as Obi-Wan, face clean-shaven and hair to his shoulders, was standing in front of a table on which sat a holochess set—the actual chess game, from the looks of it, ready to be played. Dooku was sitting on the other side, looking expectantly. He was wiry as he always was, but there was a pronounced darkness about him now, his hair white and his face lined from cruelty. Qui-Gon shuddered and stared at his former master. It hurt, to look upon this man he once admired and idolized, and see someone he could not recognize.

After a moment, Obi-Wan sat.

 _"I do wish your kind would move past all the triviality,"_ Obi-Wan remarked with his cultured accent, and he sounded calm, collected, regal. _"It is really quite tiresome to wind about in circles when both of us know what will happen."_

 _"Ah, but the Force is always in motion, as the Jedi would say,"_ Said Dooku, gesturing at the board. _"Your move."_

_"Pawn dom two to dom four."_

And so the game began.

 _"You know what is after you,"_ Said Dooku, _"It will not cease until you give in."_

_"I have no idea what you're talking about."_

_"Now who is being trivial?"_ Dooku leaned forward, _"The battle you face is not one you can defeat. You know the saying."_

_If you can't beat them, join them._

_"Perhaps, perhaps not,"_ Said Obi-Wan, _"The Force is always in motion, as you have said. Knight to cresh three."_

 _"Do you value yourself so little?"_ Dooku tilted his head. _"It would be a shame. It is well known, how my former padawan had strove to protect you, nurture you. He at least valued you, perhaps more than even the Jedi. That you should allow yourself to die from this…that does him a great disservice, does it not?"_

Obi-Wan inexplicably laughed. _"This is what those like you don't understand."_ He looked at Dooku as if the elder man were a child. _"You never understood. The Dark Side would not exist, of course, if it had no use, and so all of you are useful. However, for all the sacrifices we Jedi make, nothing can exceed the lengths of your lot. You are destruction, devastation, death. You exist only to undo what was made, and in the end as you descend further into the shadows, once your usefulness is over, you, too, are eliminated. Whereas the Light, it is health, healing, making, and we create uses for you. You claim the Jedi are slaves, for we follow the Force instead of command it, but how can you, with your puny mortal mind and mortal flesh, you who were born from the Force and whose life had always been defined by it, hope to be the master of something that transcends life and death?"_ He stood then. _"Qui-Gon loved me for my light. To fall would break his heart, for I would die without being dead, and my survival would be a mockery of what he once loved. I almost find it offensive, that you should think I would do so."_

 _"It will destroy you, child,"_ Dooku said quietly, and the way he said it sounded so…tender. _"It will destroy you, and Qui-Gon's efforts would have been for nothing."_

_"So be it."_

Dooku's lightsaber, red as blood, whirred into existence without a warning, but Obi-Wan caught it with his own blue blade, and the resulting flash blinded Qui-Gon. He blinked, and he was suddenly standing in the trees, the sound of the distant waterfall tingling in the air.

He turned to get his bearings, looking around and blinking as if woken from a nightmare. The blind shaman leaned against a tree, arms folded and looking impassively with his blue eyes still unfocused. 

"You will raise a great being," Said he, "But he won't last long."

"I don't understand."

"Oh?"

"Why show me all of this?" Qui-Gon raised his hand to find it shaking a little. "Why show me all of this?" He hardly knew what to make of what he saw—everything had jumbled together, so many confounding things happening one after another, and among them all was the resonating, undeniable message that Obi-Wan… _my poor Obi-Wan!_

"Because," Said the shaman, "If you want Obi-Wan to survive Darsant Avat…you have to make sure he trains the boy."

Qui-Gon froze. "That's it?" He asked, disbelieving. "That's all I have to do?"  _Get Obi-Wan to train Anakin?_  How was that going to change anything? From all his visions before he came to the shamans, it actually looked like Anakin was already trained, despite the current scenes he now saw to the contrary, and even then Anakin seemed to have been struggling.

"He needs to learn the way of the Jedi," Said Anakin,"Because only he can shield him from Darsant Avat."

"How?" Qui-Gon asked, "I saw visions before. I saw him—Anakin—he didn't know what to do."

"The solution is simple." The shaman pointed to the side. Qui-Gon looked, and saw the adult Obi-Wan, eyes tranquil and deep, face serene and kind. He now sported a beard, neat enough to be out of the way, but full enough to remind Qui-Gon of himself. Around them was sand, the sky searing hot, with two suns blazing over the golden landscape.

 _"Learn the way of the Whills,"_  said Obi-Wan, _"and in time, all shall be revealed to you."_

"And what is that?" Qui-Gon asked, resisting the urge to step back.

Obi-Wan raised his hand, and it was strange because though he was tall, he was not as tall as Qui-Gon, so he had to reach up in order to touch the Jedi Master's forehead. _"We of our order offer you and your brethren… **immortality**."_

The Force exploded with laughter and sparkling lights, much like when Qui-Gon first bonded with Obi-Wan. There was childhood and youth, color and music, song and joy, until Qui-Gon's heart felt so full of it he felt like he could not bear it.

 _Love, Master,_  Obi-Wan's voice whispered,  _That is the key to eternity…and to outlast Darsant Avat._


End file.
